


Choose your destiny

by Kalee60



Series: Kalee's AU Extravaganza [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Beefy Bucky Barnes, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Decisions, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers to Soulmates, Implied Switching, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Self-Doubt, Sort Of, True Love's Kiss, oblivious boys, shrinkyclinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26042923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: Steve Rogers had been waiting for his soulmate for a lifetime. And was still waiting. Actually, he was sick of waiting, if they didn’t want to find him, that was their business, but he couldn’t wait around any longer. Not when a cute guy just moved into his apartment block that he wanted to get to know better.Bucky Barnes had spent his adult life trying to find his soulmate, and although he didn’t want to give up on his one true partner, it was disheartening. He was starting to think that maybe he should take Natasha’s advice and meet new people. Like the cute guy in the apartment block he’d just moved in to.In a world where your soulmate’s vision is overlaid on yours at different times, and finding them can prove tricky, will two weary men whose other halves seemed impossible to locate, find something together instead? And what happens when their soulmates seem to be closer than either of them expected?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Kalee's AU Extravaganza [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858591
Comments: 442
Kudos: 615
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, Stucky Bingo 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey All, 
> 
> Well here we are - the next AU fic on my list - Soulmates ❤ This one was really interesting to work out as I wanted to try something a little different from what I’d read before, and although I’m certain this idea is not at all new (and probably countless ones exist like it) I really had fun with the concept as it’s not a perfect soulmate system - not at all. This is also the first time for me writing the boys with an alternating POV and as you read it - you’ll understand why I chose to do it. Usually I love to leave my readers guessing what the other person is thinking - but I think it works in this case.
> 
> It will be over 6 chapters and I plan to post every second day hopefully (weather permitting 😉) so go forth and I honestly hope you enjoy my take on this trope!
> 
> This also ticks off two of my Bingo fills -  
> Stucky Bingo: A3 - Nose Kisses  
> Bucky Barnes Bingo: K3 - Abandonment Issues

**Steve**

Steve was just trying to buy bread when it happened next. He sighed heavily, letting the familiar overlay of another scene play out, filtering over the shelves of wholemeal, gluten free and white bread he stood in front of. He had no idea how long the vision would last, so he stepped back out of the way of other shoppers, and with disinterest honed over two decades he waited, wanting it to be all over as quickly as possible.

> _a gorgeous redhead laughed, smiling brightly, looking directly into his eyes before leaning over and grasping his forearm, squeezing tightly. Words escaped her and he chuckled, shaking his head, looking around the room. The room was full of boxes, and half unpacked items, but the sun coming in through the uncurtained windows was cozy, warm, inviting. A TV played a rerun of an original Star Trek episode, and eyes lingered on Captain Kirk a moment before looking back to the redhead. She spoke, lips forming a word that he missed when his eyes flicked away, and he shook his head again at what she said, a frown forming on her face_

Suddenly the overlay was gone and Steve was staring at bread again; he grabbed the first loaf he could in a huff, angry at himself for still feeling _something_ after all of this time. He should have known better.

He was fifteen when he received his first overlay, the excitement of having a soulmate even if it had come almost ten years earlier than most people, meant that he’d not be alone for the rest of his life. It had bolstered Steve through those formative school years, made being picked on not so bad, made being the smallest in his year not as awful (he was always in the front row for class photos) and it also made him stand up for what he believed in. He was worthy, he deserved love, he had a soulmate, so everything would be fine. They’d soon figure out who the other was, meet, fall in love - end of story.

That is not how it went.

Steve was almost thirty five and still had no idea who his soulmate was. He was beginning to think it was the universe's idea of a grand joke at his expense. 

He paid for his groceries and started the trek back to his apartment, and for the millionth time in his life, Steve couldn’t help wonder who his soulmate was. He didn’t _really_ want to think about it, it made him angry because clearly they were not meant to be, his soulmate didn’t _want_ to find him, but still he could wonder. 

For all intents and purposes he felt abandoned, like his soulmate had just left him untethered in the world. They’d deserted him to his own devices, to navigate life alone without even a passing thought. First his mother left, though not by her choice, death was a fickle thing, then to his anguish his soulmate had never bothered to appear. Whether that was their intent or not, he didn’t know. He could only speculate and guess.

Steve pushed aside the reasoning that it might not be his soulmates’ fault he’d not reached out, because in fact, Steve over all the years, had yet to see anything in the overlays that could identify him in return. Steve knew he was in Brooklyn somewhere, knowledge that made Steve reluctant to move, yet his soulmate was still an enigma, a mystery. One Steve was getting tired of obsessing over, and was trying his damndest to let go of. 

But, Steve was allowed to feel petulant and assume his soulmate was being aloof and contrary on purpose. It had been a long time after all, and surely even though Steve hadn’t glimpsed anything pertinent about his soulmate, they’d must have seen him at _least_ once.

And that was what Steve was afraid of. 

He’d been seen and was found lacking.

Not attractive.

Pushing aside the raw feelings that bubbled up whenever his thoughts landed on that possibility, Steve sighed and pushed his glasses back up his nose and ran a hand through his coiffed blonde hair - that he’d probably now just messed up. He honestly didn’t care. 

The ringing of his phone pulled him from his funk and he saw Peggy’s name pop up, and how in hell did she do that? She somehow always knew when he’d received an overlay, it was uncanny. Though she could just be ringing to chat about their plans later that night.

“Hey,” he answered as he jumped out the way of a cyclist while crossing the road.

“Hey yourself. Tell me what’s going on?” Peggy was nothing if not blunt, her accent making her seem even more sharp, but that was just Peg, she was the softest person he knew.

Steve didn’t want to tell the truth, he was sick of talking about it and feeling crappy after a vision. He was always full of what if’s, what he could do differently, what he could try just to get his soulmates interest, a name, _hell_ , anything. He’d even take a rejection, just so he’d at least _know._ Try and move on.

“You had a glaze, didn’t you darling?”

Of course she’d pick up on it.

“Yup,” he popped the ‘p’ and stopped to look in the window of his local art store, noting they had new parchment paper in, he’d go back the next day when his hands weren’t full and get some. As he walked away, he caught a glimpse of himself in the window and sighed. He wasn’t what you would call classically handsome, he’d been called cute too many times in his life for it to mean anything but, and sure he was small, barely hitting five foot five inches, but he worked out hard and was strong for his size. He’d even achieved proper abs in his late twenties, though he’d let himself go a little bit since then. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not at all…” he went quiet and then let out a long deep sigh, and said with almost a whisper “...yes.”

“Okay, I’ve just made a hot cuppa, let’s work this out together. Tell me what you saw.”

Steve wanted to reach through the phone and hug Peggy, she was always there for him. She was one of the lucky ones, her overlays, or glazes, started in her late twenties and in only two years, Daniel and her had seen enough to find the other. One kiss is all it took and Peggy had said everything aligned in a way she couldn’t explain, it just felt _right._ Of course true love's first kiss would play into the ridiculousness that was soulmates, if you kissed someone who wasn’t your soulmate the overlays would cease, so Steve was, essentially an adult who’d never been kissed. He’d certainly had sex, but never felt the press of a mouth over his own, nose-kisses were the equivilant, but clearly not the same. Sighing heavily, Steve wasn’t bitter, not really. 

But Peggy and Daniel had been together for two years and were clearly made for each other, the air was electric around them, it was amazing to witness and be a part of, even from the sidelines. Which made it all that much harder for him to brush aside that he didn’t _need_ or _want_ a soulmate, not when he saw first hand how it could be. Steve had been ecstatic for her of course, but it also left a small hard rock-like feeling in his gut that he’d been waiting for so long with no happy ending in sight.

“What was it this time?” Peggy asked not needing to clarify her question, he knew exactly what she meant.

“The redhead.”

“Oh, drat” Peggy said, “but honestly, I still believe it’s his best friend.”

Steve gave a disbelieving hum and turned the corner to his apartment, noticing a large removalist truck out the front. Seemed the building was getting a new tenant. “I don’t know, she’s been in them on and off for over ten years now, always touching, or out with him, or hanging together eating. Very, I’ve-been-dating-you-for-years like behaviour.”

“Well, let’s not be rash, and think about this properly Steve. If he’s seen me at all over the past seven years we’ve been friends, he might be thinking the exact same thing.”

Steve didn’t answer, just allowed himself to feel a little resentful with no repercussions for a moment. And it wasn’t like you _had_ to end up with your soulmate, in fact some people chose not to, to ignore the visions, to kiss other people and marry someone else. Steve had actually dated extensively, but never allowed himself to get too serious, just in case. And there was a time where he thought he and Peggy might try a relationship, but then her overlays started, and he’d let the errant thought drop. They were much better as friends anyway. 

“It’s just a stupid concept, right?” Steve started, “I know I’ve talked your ear off about this, but why in hell would there be a genetic system set up that is so… I don’t know - sloppy? There is no sound, no idea on how long a glaze will last, no way to know when they are seeing through your eyes so you can, I don’t know, throw your name or address up. It’s almost as if they made it as hard as possible. I mean, Peg, it’s been almost twenty years and not even a hint of who he is, just random bits, like living in Brooklyn, this Borough is _huge_ , and how does the office he works at have no stationary or branding anywhere? it’s just… I don’t know. Disheartening, I guess.”

He huffed and tried not to bring up the fact he knew by heart, that almost seventy percent of soulmates met within three years of the first overlay, twenty within seven, nine within ten years. Then there was Steve in the lonely one percent. He was also the first known case to have received his overlays in his teens, a full ten years before they were supposed to start. Well in the New York State area at any rate. His first therapist had told him that maybe there was a glitch in his genetic code, that when he’d almost died at ten, it had messed with him. Needless to say he didn’t see that therapist again, though the sentiment stayed with him. _Was_ there something wrong with him?

“You know my thoughts on this, you need to stop beating yourself up, it’s not healthy. He could be just as frustrated as you, he could be searching high and low too. Did you sign up to that website I sent through?”

“I’ve been busy.” He replied, not really wanting to voice that he was over it, that he was ready to give up and didn’t want to spend more money than he’d already had, to find a person that might not want to be found. “I’m actually thinking about dating again, getting out there.”

Peggy was quiet for a beat, “I think that sounds wonderful actually. It will be good to meet new people and you’ll find someone who’ll make you happy, I’m certain of it.”

Steve made a noise, the idea of getting out there, even if he began with just a casual hook-up, started to make him feel a little better, it had been too long since he’d enjoyed someone’s company that wasn’t part of his close friend group. He’d been lingering on his soulmate for too long.

Walking up the stoop of his apartment, dodging boxes and bags, Steve opened the heavy door to the foyer, when he heard a small grunt and a ‘can you hold that please’. Using his back to hold the door open, he let a large man holding a huge box shuffle in. 

“Hey, thanks man,” a deep voice said as they squeezed past.

“No trouble,” Steve replied as he admired thick thighs, eyes trailing down to the impressively muscled calves showing from under loose cargo shorts. He couldn’t help the appreciative rise of his brow when his gaze landed on the broadest shoulders he’d seen in a while, all paired with gorgeous dark hair caught in a messy bun. _Huh,_ Steve kind of hoped this guy was moving to his floor, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have some eye candy to help him get over his soulmate. Pity the man’s face was hidden behind a box and he couldn’t get a proper look. 

“Are you still there, Steve? I think you cut out for a moment, bad connection?” Peggy’s voice startling him from his contemplation.

“Uh, yeah, something like that,” Steve replied, a little taken aback at how he couldn’t drag his eyes away from the man waiting for the elevator, the deep voice thanking him, reverberating in his mind. Shaking himself from his stupor, he forced himself up the stairs. 

“Are you still coming over tonight? Daniel, Wanda and Kurt are looking forward to seeing you.”

“Of course, Pegs. I’ll be there - I’ve picked up some of the goats cheese from that deli you like.” He let himself into his apartment, and hoisted the bags onto his kitchen counter, looking around at his neat kitchen.

“Perfect, sounds lush. Can’t wait to see you, it’s been too long. See you at seven sharp.”

They said their goodbyes and Steve packed everything away before slumping onto his couch, staring up at the ceiling then sighed. A thump from above made him jump, and he realised the new tenant must be living one floor up.

Oh well, maybe he’d see him around the place anyway, even if they didn’t share a floor. Finally bolstering himself to move and get up, Steve headed for the shower, readying himself to go back out to see his friends. The whole time he was under the spray of hot water, Steve put all thoughts of soulmates out of his mind, deciding to focus on a faceless man with broad shoulders and gorgeous legs instead.

  
  


**Bucky**

Natasha was driving him mad. Bucky wanted to move apartments in peace, he didn’t ask for or want any help, but she was like a pesky little sister, in more ways than one and came around anyway. Instead of helping she was picking through his belongings, creating a pile of things he could live without. Bucky was ready to throw her out the window.

“Don’t put that there,” he said for about the fiftieth time in three hours, “how about you go do a coffee run?”

“What, and leave you to decorate this place alone, come on.”

Bucky sighed and placed the last box he had brought up on the ground, and stood with his hands on his hips watching as she lay splayed out over his armchair in the window. Natasha was cat-like in her grace and movements, and also had claws, luckily for him they were very rarely pointed in his direction. Though he had a feeling they’d come out soon if he started to push at her like he wanted to.

“I’m perfectly capable of hanging a few prints up and chucking a throw rug on my couch,” one he’d just spied on top of the box he’d dumped, Bucky grabbed it and threw it on her so it landed over her head.

“Case in point,” her head popped out, hair in disarray and held up the rug, “these colours are going to clash with almost everything in this room.”

“And?” he responded, knowing it would annoy her, he was right, Natasha’s green eyes narrowed. But before she could give him another mouthful on how he was clearly colour blind, he said, “I think I half met someone from the building today. Seemed nice.”

“Oh…?” she asked.

“I mean, he held the door for me, I didn’t get a look at him, just his back as he ran up the stairs while I wrestled getting this box in the elevator.”

“You going to bone him?”

“Nat!” Bucky exclaimed, then sighed, “just because I haven’t dated anyone in a while, doesn’t mean the first person I see in my new place I’m going to fuck, no matter how cute his ass was when climbing stairs.”

Natasha eyed him up and down, her face turning serious, and Bucky knew what was coming and honestly didn’t want to hear it, was sick of hearing it, thinking about it.

“James, your soulmate isn’t coming to find you, I mean it’s been almost fifteen years and nothing. You need to let go of it.”

Bucky huffed out a breath of air, “Want a water?” he asked and when she nodded slowly, he went to the fridge and grabbed a couple of bottles, just needing a second to control his thoughts before he inadvertently started another fight with her about it all.

Trouble was, _yes_ , he knew he should move on, but could he? Not quite. He was a hopeless romantic (heavy on the hopeless) and even though he’d spent over half his life searching and seeking out his hidden away and hard to find soulmate, it just didn’t feel right to completely give up.

He passed over the water and she took it with a soft smile, she was not done with him. Sighing, he waited for Natasha’s usual line. He loved her to death, but god, was she also annoying.

“You’ve spent so much money on trying to locate him, not _one_ of those soulmate finding companies could help, which means he probably hasn’t seeked you out either. I know you know he’s here in New York, and you see a lot of Brooklyn and that his artwork centres around cityscapes and portraits, but… fifteen years James. It just seems -”

“- I know what it seems like, Nat. Believe me I do. And sure, maybe he hasn’t gone to Soulfinders or Mate2Mate but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been searching too. I just don’t understand that if this genetic soulmate thing is so spot-on, why haven’t I seen his face?”

Bucky had spent a lifetime staring at other mens hands, searching for the exact pair he always saw in his overlays. Hands as almost familiar as his own. They were strong, a little gangly and so very competent, especially when painting, and Bucky may have fallen down the rabbit hole a few times imagining how they’d feel on his body, touching him, making him fall apart. 

He’d also stopped at countless art shows, supply stores, everything art related, trying to find his soulmates paintings. So far he’d come up blank, seeing similar styles, but never quite right. Annoyingly enough his soulmate never signed them, well not when Bucky had seen, nor did he sell them it appeared. It was as if he were being deliberately hard to find.

“Well at least you know what his girlfriend’s face looks like at least,” Natasha teased and although he knew she was joking and trying to wind him up, he still felt the pang from all those years ago when he thought he’d lost his soulmate to somebody else.

It was about seven years earlier when the stunning brunette first appeared in the overlays, and Bucky had immediately felt sick. The way his soulmates eyes didn’t leave hers while she spoke, the way she was constantly around, going out together, doing things. Scared he’d soon have his glazes cease when he kissed the brunette. But then a dark haired man had appeared a few years earlier, and Bucky could tell the brunettes were soulmates and his heart lightened, lifted. He still had a chance, no matter how slim it seemed.

“On that note, when are you telling Clint that he’s _your_ soulmate?”

Natasha’s face went an unusual shade of colour, she didn’t blush per se, but she reacted and that was wonderous to Bucky. He loved catching her off guard.

“I said not to bring that up again.”

“Oh, so you can give me crap about my lack of soulmate and moving on, when you _know_ who yours is and you’ve not approached him. Come on, Nat - how’s that fair?”

She rubbed a hand over her face and scowled.

“I’m just waiting for the right time.”

“Admit it, you’re scared.”

A pillow with no casing flew at his head, and he caught it easily and smirked. Natasha had been working with Clint for a few years, had always had an aloof sort of crush on him, not that he’d know as she wasn’t great with showing affection. Then one day her overlay showed Clint, naked in front of the mirror bar a pair of mismatched socks on his feet, and still Natasha hadn’t approached him. Bucky could hardly believe she’d told him the story, though he was infinitely glad she had.

But, Bucky was still a little frustrated that part of her happiness stood directly in front of her, there for the taking, yet she didn’t reach for it.

“I’m not scared, just, you know, don’t want to rush into it, I don’t want him to faint or something.”

She had a point, Clint had been following her around like a lost puppy, clearly half in love with her already, and finding out she was his literal soulmate might not be great for his heart. His glazes clearly hadn’t shown too much of Nat so far.

“Well since you’re here, you can at least help me put my bed together.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was glad for the change in topic, and with a put-upon huff, stood up and followed him into his new bedroom. Bucky loved the light in the room from the two big windows, and was supremely glad he’d decided to move apartments, it was a fresh start in a way. He wasn’t purposely moving in and around Brooklyn in the hopes he’d run into his soulmate, but he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t crossed his mind. 

The opportunity came to move when work had given him a raise and he saw a recently renovated apartment come up in an old building that he’d walked past frequently over the years. Bucky had been drawn to it for some reason, and he didn’t need to think twice about relocating. Plus it was closer for him to commute for his work in the financial district. So there he was, moving in and having a fight over the fact his sheets and comforter didn’t match.

“Really?” he asked incredulously as Natasha ripped the sheets off, then scrounged around in a bag for another set.

“Well you can’t invite the hot guy who lives in the building around and have him lay on orange and blue sheets - where in hell did you get them anyway?”

Bucky ignored her dig at the garish colours, he’d partially bought them because he knew she’d hate them, plus they were bright and he liked bright. There was no way in hell he’d admit the colour reminded him of a sunset painting he’d seen his soulmate do once. It was one of the longest overlay’s he’d ever been in, almost half an hour, and he sat on the edge of his sofa the whole time, drowning in the picture, hoping for any little snippet that might lead him to meet the person painting it. But once more there were no clues. He could still taste the frustration years later.

“And why would he be laying on my sheets?”

“Because, you need to date again, and this is the first time you’ve mentioned anyone’s ass in a long time, so I’m running with it. I think I might start knocking on doors to find him, see if he’s interested in a little -”

“- if I take you with me linen shopping will you shut up?”

Natasha’s mouth shut with a click, and a smug smile started to grow. He’d been had, she’d played him like a fiddle. Sighing, Bucky grabbed his new house keys and his wallet.

“Alright, let’s go, but you’re buying the coffee.”

“Deal,” she said and preceded him out of the apartment.

Bucky locked up then looked both ways down the hall, his heart lurching as a door just across the way opened. But he didn’t glimpse the slight man he’d seen the back of earlier, instead it was an older lady who looked his way and smiled. Bucky returned the smile and gave a small wave and followed Nat to the stairs, not certain if his new neighbors would be up for a chat. Some New Yorkers could be funny about niceties. Especially with strangers, he might wait a bit before introductions were made.

As he bounded down the stairs to catch up with Natasha, he spent a second thinking of the man he’d seen earlier and wondered why his brain had decided to fixate on him. Maybe he did need to date casually again, get out and enjoy himself. He wasn’t about to forget his soulmate, but Bucky also couldn’t live like a monk and forget that connections, pleasure and friendships could be forged.

With that in mind, Bucky was going to make a concerted effort to meet the man who’d held the door open for him. He never knew, he might make a new friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are - and as promised, I didn't make you wait too long for the update!
> 
> I'm thrilled people are liking the concept of overlays - and also are onboard for the pairing. I feel Smol Steve fits this narrative really well - and who doesn't love a side of beefy Bucky with him 😏
> 
> Dive on in - and I hope you enjoy the continuing tale of these two boys navigating the fine line of waiting for their soulmate or taking a chance on somebody new! Ah - it's a whole new way of writing oblivious idiots in love <3

**Steve**

So far he was three days into an outburst of creativity with no end in sight. Steve's muse had taken control and he’d barely eaten or slept since he’d laid out his equipment and drop-sheet in the spare room, his studio. He loved when all he could think about, all he could concentrate on was the texture of the paper under his fingers or brush in hand (depending on his medium for the day), the colours swirling, the images that came to his mind from the countless photos he’d take and spread around the room for inspiration. Steve mainly worked with oil pastels, watercolours and digital, oils were just too messy and the smell would have his neighbours complaining. Once he'd established himself better, Steve hoped to be able to afford his own studio, if only just to paint with everything he could lay his hands on with no boundaries. 

Slapping down outlines and colours was the easiest part, the hard part was looking after himself.

The fact Steve could make a living from his paintings still blew him away, that his talent was enough that people had his art on their walls. And even though he currently sold to a purely European market, yet to break into the American one, it was heady and he was proud of his accomplishment. He knew his ma would be too. 

Once more, he tried not to wonder if his soulmate would like his art, if they'd seen it in overlays and had thoughts on what he did for a living, it would only make sense they'd at least glimpsed it, Steve _did_ spend an inordinate amount of time in front of an easel.

The knocking on his front door, _no_ , the pounding, broke him from his reverie and as if he were waking from a hundred year slumber, he picked his way across the mess of the room, grabbed a rag and wiped his hands as he walked backwards slowly, staring at the cacophony of colour on his latest cityscape, and less than five minutes later had opened the door.

Peggy stood there, hip cocked, a bottle of wine in her hand and a flat stare.

“Oh, um, how long have you been waiting?” Steve asked, then moved back to let her in. “Why didn’t you call?”

His words did not change Peggy’s expression. “I did. Actually more times than polite. Your phone rang out every time, and I was worried.”

Steve frowned and walked over to his phone, first seeing it was on silent, then after he touched the screen, leaving a small smudge of green, the banner appeared with almost twenty missed calls.

“Oh, sorry, I’ve been -”

“- painting, yes I can see that. I can also see that you forgot it was Wednesday.”

“Shit, sorry Pegs, time’s just got away from me this week, it’s been nice to be honest. I haven’t had time to think about anything else. Marina called and put in another order to be shipped to Amsterdam as soon as I was able. And yeah… did I mention I’ve been really busy?”

Her eyes softened and Steve felt bad about playing up the fact he was distracted enough to forget his usual woes, but she would hold a grudge if she worked out Steve had actually just forgotten their standard weekly date.

Steve went and cleaned himself up and changed into non-paint stained clothes, before grabbing a couple of wine glasses down while Peggy opened the red to breathe. It was a good bottle and he wondered what the occasion was.

“Thai?” He asked, grabbing the take-out menus from his kitchen drawer, she nodded in response, a small smile on her face.

Steve narrowed his eyes and made the order, paying by card to alleviate the awkwardness of trying to wrangle cash in a nearly cashless society, then turned back to Peggy who was pouring the wine. “Be about fifty minutes, but I have to go down to the foyer and pick it up, the delivery guy is in a moonboot. Don’t ask me how it’s still okay for him to be on a scooter in Brooklyn...”

“Steve,” Peggy said, and from the tone in her voice, he stopped babbling and looked at her expectandly. That’s when he saw her outstretched hand, and on it, the most dazzling diamond known to man.

“He did not? Daniel proposed - finally?”

She nodded, the grin on her face blinding and Steve launched himself at her. 

The rest of the wait for food was spent talking about the proposal, the way that Daniel had organised a weekend away in Greenport, a romantic dinner and a moonlit walk that ended up with him on one knee, Peggy obviously ecstatic, said yes.

“The wedding? Here or in London?”

“Here, but we’ll honeymoon back home, see the family, introduce him to the bevy of cousins and aunts and uncles that have only ever seen him on Skype.”

Steve was thrilled that Peggy’s life was on a trajectory that meant she’d be safe and secure and loved until her dying day, hopefully full of children and laughter. And Steve, he’d be there every step of the way that he could. He pushed aside the small negative voice that tried to dampen his excitement for her. It wasn’t about him, it was Peggy’s news and he wouldn’t let his situation bring down the mood.

His phone soon beeped, indicating the food was nearby, “don’t drink all the wine, I’ll be back in a sec.”

“I won’t make a promise I can’t keep,” She replied cheekily, and he grinned her way, grabbing his keys.

He took the stairs two at a time, trying to get a little exercise into his day since he’d practically not moved for most of the week, his Converse shoes squeaking on the floor as he rounded the corner into the foyer and then smacked into a human brick wall.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” Steve started then looked up at the person who he’d slammed into at breakneck speed, swallowing tightly at what was before him. His first thought was that he was going to try and create the exact shade of slate grey-blue eye colour with his paints when he went back upstairs. Steve's second thought was that a smile had no right to look so spectacular, but then he took a step back, out of the man’s personal space and made an amendment. The smile was deadly and completely suited the man standing in front of him. It was soft at the corners, tilted in a teasing almost bashful way, and it was forming words. _Oh christ_ , this man was talking to Steve and he’d completely spaced out.

“Oh sorry, I missed that, I have dodgy hearing in my left ear.” It was true, but he flushed, already telling this gorgeous man about one of his ailments. _Great start, Rogers_.

The man chuckled and it went straight to Steve’s gut, “No, _I’m_ sorry, I was just apologising for standing in the middle of the doorway. I’ve only just moved in and assumed people didn’t use the stairs.”

“Right, well, I honestly think I’m the only one,” Steve said automatically, thinking it a little odd to be loitering in the foyer, but then the words sunk in. “ _You’re_ the new tenant?”

The man nodded, and Steve couldn’t help but stare some more. They seemed to be around the same age, maybe the brunette had a year or two on him, and it was nice to meet someone who he might have common ground with. But it _was_ the guy who’d been holding the box, his shoulders even more broad up close, biceps bulging under a soft grey knit that was tight in all the right places and loose around his waist. The dark jeans and loafers just made him look edible - and Steve realised he’d been openly checking him out. Subtly was dead.

“Welcome to the building,” he choked out, knowing his pale complexion had just blotched bright red, uneven and very unattractive. 

But the stunning man didn’t look at him as if he were a pain or an embarrassment, if anything his grin grew impossibly wider, and his eyes tracked themselves down to Steve’s toes then back up to his head, making Steve flush even more. He wasn’t checking Steve out, couldn't have been, he probably was just taking in his size. It wasn’t the first time a larger guy had done it, but this time, it didn’t make Steve stiffen his spine and retaliate with a sharp barb. Strangely enough, he let it go, the man’s gaze soothing him instead of being inflammatory.

“Thanks, I love it here so far. Great location, amazing architecture and the people who live here are _very_ nice. Very nice indeed.”

Steve felt the flush deepen, even though the guy wasn't talking about him specifically, just in general. But for some reason it felt more intimate than two people meeting for the first time, he felt drawn to the man with a killer smile and large frame that could dwarf Steve if he'd let him.

Looking down at his own skinny jeans and hoodie, Steve suddenly felt underdressed and prayed he didn't have paint in his hair or on his face.

"Did you need help with something?" Steve blurted, and when the brunette raised an eyebrow slowly, he kept flailing along like a numpty. "I mean, you're in the foyer, did you need the super? Do you have Paul’s number, he's the kind of guy you just text then wait for…"

"Oh, no I'm waiting for -"

The buzzer cut off the man's words and Steve looked up to see a delivery driver in a moonboot at the door with two bags. 

He hightailed it to the door, and found that his hot almost-neighbour was right on his heels, the man was taller than Steve, so much taller and he wasn't going to lie, he felt a little dizzy at being so near to him.

It was a completely foreign feeling, he'd never felt like this near a stranger before. To be fair, he'd _never_ reacted in this way around anyone he knew either.

"James?" The driver asked when Steve opened the door, and he shook his head to say no, when an arm reached around him.

"That's me," James murmured, his chest almost pressed neatly against Steve's back. And he had a name. The gorgeous man from upstairs was James. He also felt an unusual thrill run up his spine from the warmth against him, and he had to reign it in. He was a thirty four year old man, not a teenager with a crush on a handsome stranger they'd seen once.

"So, you're Steve?" The driver said next, holding up a second bag.

"Yup, that's me, thanks."

They both tipped the driver and stood relatively awkward for a moment staring at the other for no reason. Steve let out a chuckle, and James shifted and went to stand on Steve's right side.

"Steve, it was nice to meet you," James said and stuck out his hand.

Steve took too long to react, but finally grasped it and shook it in return. James had remembered what Steve had said about his ear, and not only remembered, but actively went out of his way to speak on his good side. 

Soulmate be damned, Steve was already crushing very hard, it was impossible not to. It was a strange and unique feeling. He'd not felt this giddy with possibilities in years. And they'd only spoken a handful of words, and just met for the first time.

Steve needed to slow down.

"Well I'd best get back up, I have a hungry guest waiting. But it was great to meet you James."

"Likewise." 

But then they both headed for the stairs, so Steve kept up the chatter, because that's what he did to fill a silence.

"So I'm just on the second floor, 2b if you need help with anything." Steve turned a corner and kept climbing, James right behind him.

"Oh right, I'm 3b, so right on top of you."

Steve stumbled, and crap, there was no way he could have hidden that. How on earth could something said in innocence, go straight to his dick? But it begged the question on if James preferred to be on top always, or would he enjoy switching? And how was that important? He needed to cover his lapse.

"Good to know. Well if you get too loud I'll take to the roof with a broom, tap _you_ back."

He heard a thump against the wall and Steve looked back only to find James watching him wide-eyed, then his tongue darted out and Steve couldn’t look away from the slither of pink, tripping over his feet enough for James to reach out and steady him with a hand on his elbow.

Steve died of mortification. He couldn't even attempt to flirt or joke without making a fool of himself, well that's what he'd assumed happened.

But suddenly, thankfully, they were on Steve's landing, and ready to part ways. He was equal parts eager to escape and lament how he was an abomination at flirting, but also disappointed that he wouldn’t get to enjoy the deep voice and depthless eyes for longer. Steve really wasn’t sure what blues he could use to get the right shade…

“This is you?” James said with a small tilt to his head. Steve found his own head tilting to mimic him and then realised what he’d done. He was a menace.

"Errr, well. Nice to meet you again,” he said with a rush, voice a little too high, “and… uh, if you ever need a cup of blue… I mean, crap - sugar or something… just knock. Loudly."

The chuckle James let out went straight to his groin, and Steve was in terrible trouble. 

"Thanks, Steve - I'll remember that, 2b right?

"Yeah… 2b." Steve replied, feeling a bit tongue tied.

"Well, thanks for the warm welcome and I'll definitely see you around soon." James gave a jaunty wave and continued to ascend. But he looked back once, and Steve was still standing there, watching that ass go up the stairs.

Red as a fire engine, Steve fled to his door.

And it was only as he fished his keys from his pocket to let himself in, that he realised for the first time, in as long as he could remember, he’d not actually thought about his soulmate once during the entire interaction.

  
  


**Bucky**

As he opened his door and put down the food, Bucky shook his head, feeling fuzzy; as if he were awakening from a dream. Steve, because that was the small ray of unexpected sunshine's name, had absolutely knocked his socks off in less than ten minutes, and he didn’t really know how to feel about it all.

Because Bucky had a soulmate.

Granted, it was one who’d been errant for almost fifteen years, and with no sign of making an appearance.

But... he still _had_ a soulmate.

Okay sure, yes, he had one, yet there was nothing stopping him from talking to Steve, getting to know him, or becoming his friend. Then once the formalities were done, maybe if he was lucky, Steve would slide up behind him in the shower one day and take him apart with his tongue, then maybe, just maybe slip something else into him. It would make a nice change from his usual dalliances. 

“Bucky!” he said out loud to himself in the most scolding voice he could.

He shouldn’t be thinking such thoughts on a guy he’d just met, a man in his new apartment building, a man who was _not_ his soulmate.

 _Hell_ , for all he knew, Steve had a soulmate and was eating Thai takeout with them now.

Just because Bucky felt a vibe from him, didn't mean there was an _actual_ vibe.

Sighing, he grabbed a steaming hot container from the bag and chopsticks from a drawer in the kitchen and flopped onto his single seater, the one that looked out over the street. 

It was dark and the lights were warm, making the pavement glow, people walked past slowly on their way home or heading out, and Bucky ate his noodles in silence. Contemplating his life, the choices he could make. The choices he _should_ make.

But instead, his mind continued to snag on the way Steve said he'd tap him back. Did that mean the smaller man might be interested in a ‘mutual exchange of benefits’ if he wasn’t already attached that was? And how, how could Bucky find that out? He could always knock on Steve’s door, see who answered, maybe get an invitation inside, work out if anyone else lived there. And suddenly it was going down a path of borderline creepy.

Bucky hadn’t felt this alive… _no_ , maybe alive wasn’t quite right, but he felt like his skin was shaky, vibrating, and he wanted to go see Steve again, see that smile and those huge blue eyes staring at him like he was a snack to be enjoyed.

And for the first time since he was twenty two and received his first overlay, he started to wonder if maybe he and his soulmate hadn’t met yet for a reason.

Three days later, Bucky had only managed to catch one glimpse of Steve running out the front door, coat streaming behind him, Converse making a long squeak as he skidded towards it, and before Bucky could call out in alarm, Steve expertly skipped to the side and slipped through the heavy shutting door. It was clearly not the first time Steve had done that, _or_ was running late.

But Bucky was hyper aware that every time he left his apartment, it might be the moment his eyes landed on the slight blonde, and so he found himself very oddly finding lots of things to do that would require him to pop outside, to the shops or check his mail four times a day. 

Obviously he could knock on Steve’s door, but he’d yet to come up with a plausible reason to do so, and a cup of sugar was not going to cut it, and everything else seemed too familiar.

Then it happened.

He’d been checking the mail, texting Nat the whole time, and when he got back to his door, couldn’t find his keys. He patted down every pocket in his jeans, but nothing. A visual of seeing them on his kitchen bench hit, and he knew he’d left them locked inside. Flicking off a quick text to Paul the super, to let him in, he got a reply almost immediately to say it would be an hour or two as he was about to be elbow deep in a plumbing emergency.

And suddenly Bucky had a conversation starter.

Bucky knocked on Steve's door then paused, shifting his weight, bouncing on his feet, anticipation at seeing Steve again riding him. Would he have the same awestruck reaction as the first time they met? 

There was no answer to his knock, and he recalled Steve’s words and tried once more - loudly. Then went back to wondering if maybe he’d built Steve up in his mind and that surely he couldn’t look as ethereal and handsome as he remembered. Bucky was hungry at the time and could have been distracted.

The door opened, Steve looking shocked for a second before staring up at Bucky owlishly, his brows drawing in with confusion. And Bucky felt like he’d been suckerpunched in the stomach. He’d _not_ imagined or exaggerated anything in his mind at all.

Steve was stunning.

The blonde was wearing a deep blue button down and light jeans with rips in them and the glimpses of pale skin made Bucky swallow hard; bare feet poked out the bottom of the denim and Steve looked relaxed in his home, but he was still frowning, why was Steve frowning?

“James?”

“Oh, call me Bucky. Everyone does.”

Steve’s lips quirked in the beginnings of a smile, and Bucky found his own mouth mirroring his.

“Okay, Bucky then.” He paused and waited and Bucky just continued to stare into blue eyes that were starting to twinkle in... amusement? “Um, do you need something?”

 _Shit._

“So, please tell me to leave if you want,” Steve’s eyebrows were now in his hairline, “but, I locked my keys inside and Paul can’t let me in until he’s finished with some emergency, and I guess, now I’m standing here in front of you, I could’ve just headed out to get coffee, but I -”

“- Bucky,” Steve laughed and it was the most wonderous sound he’d ever heard, “come in, you can have coffee here. It won’t have whipped cream or a shot of vanilla, but it’ll be hot and much cheaper.”

“Hang on, I might have to think about this, no vanilla you say?” Bucky teased and followed Steve in, shutting the door behind him with a click.

“Do you want coffee or not?” Steve sassed with a grin.

“White with no sugar, please.”

“On it,” Steve said over his shoulder and Bucky watched as he walked away, and was not at all subtle in the way he checked out how good the view was.

Shaking himself from his careening and inappropriate thoughts, he looked around, not seeing any photos or knick-knacks that might indicate a significant other, actually there were only a few store based prints on the wall, not a lot else, it was a very neat and sparse apartment. Bucky then glimpsed on the far side of the room a photo with a few people in a frame, only making out vague shapes of faces, but he didn’t want to look like he was snooping so he stayed near the sofa, happy in the fact it appeared Steve lived alone.

“Have a seat,” Steve said from the kitchen area, as the kettle started to boil, and the clinking of mugs filtered over.

Bucky sat, and suddenly was hit with a feeling of familiarity, like he’d sat in that very spot before, and for a second he thought he was getting an overlay, but nothing came. Puzzlement filled him, and it took a second to realise the layout of Steve’s apartment was very similar to his own, not exact, but close enough to have made him feel a sense of deja vu.

“You lived here long?” Bucky asked politely. The space, although neat was still cozy and comfortable, and Natasha would love the fact the throw-rug matched the colour scheme perfectly.

“About six years or so, I was over in Park Slope previously, needed a change of scenery and this place came up, I fell in love and here I am.”

“In love?” Bucky heard the words fall out of his brain and into his mouth, not expecting they’d make it any further. It also sounded quite sharp, almost like an interrogation, a demand.

Steve gave him a twisted look, then shrugged his shoulders like it didn’t matter, Bucky had a feeling that it did. “Not _with_ anyone, the apartment.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Bucky said and smiled wanly in apology as Steve handed him a steaming hot mug of coffee. And Bucky felt his eyes start to hone in on Steve's hands, half hidden under the long sleeves of his shirt.

“So how did you lock your keys inside?” Steve asked breaking the semi-awkward air between them, shaking Bucky from his hand watching obsession and he looked away before he studied them too closely like a creep. He had to stop it.

Bucky wanted to counter the question and instead ask if Steve had a soulmate, what his story was, but it really wasn’t a polite first conversation topic. There weren’t rules about what you could and couldn’t ask, it just wasn’t seemly to enquire the first time you officially spoke with someone, and Bucky didn’t want to mess up and put Steve on the wrong foot.

He also didn’t want to tell Steve the reason he’d left his keys inside was due to checking his mail, with the hope of seeing Steve as he climbed up and down the stairs. Although the plus to his small and slightly sad game was that the exercise was great for his glutes.

“I was checking the mail and spaced, left them on my counter,” he replied, leaving off that it was the third time he’d traipsed downstairs in two hours.

“Ah, well, just for future reference, the mailman usually drops around two in the afternoon, so try after then, it’s too early now, plus it’s Saturday. No mail delivery. So there’s that.” Steve’s grin was shit-eating.

There was no way he could know what Bucky’s angle was, he'd not been that obvious, had he? But, he felt his face heat anyway.

Saturday… he was a bonafide idiot.

Yet through the flames of mortification came the enjoyment at seeing the way Steve’s eyes sparkled in mirth as he watched Bucky, and what could he do, Bucky shrugged self deprecatingly and took a sip of coffee. It was good.

“Don’t be casting stones when I can see a DVD case for Antiques Roadshow over there. I didn’t even know they _had_ DVDs. I didn't even know you could still _buy_ DVDs.” 

“There is nothing wrong with Antiques Roadshow. And that's what rummage sales are for.“ Steve huffed with a hint of fire, and Bucky was completely and utterly charmed. He was also completely and utterly fucked. He _really_ liked Steve. Wanted to get to know him better.

So he took the opportunity while he had it and started to lay the groundwork for friendship. They spoke about normal things, funny things, stories of their childhood and what it was like growing up in Brooklyn, a fact Bucky was thrilled with, having soon realised that with only a couple of years between them, they had so many shared life experiences. The one topic they stayed clear of, for no particular reason, was what they did for a living, and he was thankful, never really understanding when getting to know someone why you'd speak about the mundane topic. It was refreshing, so he didn't bring it up at all.

Then they ended up on how neither of them liked Christmas very much, for different reasons. And Bucky suddenly saw them spending Christmas day together, watching movies and ignoring the festivities, wrapped up in each other. 

Bucky's phone started to ring, startling him from his imaginings, and looking down he saw Paul's name and mouthed ‘sorry’ taking the call.

“Hey Paul,” he greeted.

“I’m here at your door. I’ve got to rush, so if you want to get in you’ve got like thirty seconds, else I have to get to Mrs Dawsons and who knows how long that will take.”

“Oh shit, don’t go, I’ll be right there.”

Bucky looked up to see Steve with a small smile on his face, it softened his somewhat sharp features and Bucky forgot what he was about to say, lost in the pure unexpeceted beauty that was his neighbour. 

“You have to go?” Steve finally asked, breaking the trance that seemed to come over Bucky and he nodded mutely, realising how utterly ridiculous he must look. So he gave Steve what he hoped was his most winning smile, the one that Nat said was crooked in all the right ways.

He was pleased to see Steve swallow hard, eyes trained on his mouth, and maybe Steve wasn’t aloof or uninterested in Bucky. It was food for thought. 

“Thanks for the coffee, it was great, but just saying - if you happen to buy some vanilla syrup, I’m not going to complain.”

“Ha,” Steve said, “get out of my place you ungrateful wretch.”

Bucky chuckled as Steve walked him to the door and when they got there, it felt more like the end of a date, an odd sensation as it was purely an unplanned coffee while Bucky was locked out. But it felt as if so much more had occurred within those four walls over the past hour. Bucky couldn’t explain the connection that tethered him to Steve.

Resisting the urge to say something inane like, ‘he couldn’t wait to see him again’, Bucky gave a small awkward wave, and slipped out the door. “Catch you soon, Stevie.”

The door closed shut behind him, but not before he saw the stunned look on Steve’s face and he realised at the last second what he’d called him. It had just fallen out, he didn't consciously mean to say it.

 _Crap,_ had he been too familiar?

He didn’t get to worry about it for long as Paul was waiting for him as promised when he arrived upstairs, letting him in, then disappeared to Mrs Dawsons presumably. 

Bucky was only just inside when the overlay hit.

> _his hands reached forward, they were blackened by something… charcoal, all smudged up his fingers. He was in a hurry, trying to get something down quickly. Deftly he began to make sweeping strokes, the curve of a face starting to take shape. More scratchings, his fingers rubbing the page, smudging lines, creating features. His vision suddenly blurred, blinking rapidly, finally coming back into sharpness._
> 
> _Next moment vivid blues on a palette were mixed together, six or seven different tones, the frustration with his hand and brush clear as he tried another shade. This went on for long minutes._
> 
> _Then the charcoal was back, the drawing started to take form, his eyes suddenly moved to his phone. The display lit up and his hand reached out for it. Drawing now forgotten._

Bucky stumbled the rest of the way inside. The overlay intense, only thirty seconds or so, but it stole his breath. There were no actual feelings involved during glazes, only your own, it was purely vision, like watching a TV show on mute. Yet Bucky could tell by the frantic movements of his soulmate, he’d been hit with inspiration, was in the zone and drawing somebody.

Had his soulmate met someone? A significant one? Was this the beginning of seeing a new person appearing on the regular that meant the slow and steady decline of visions until they stopped completely when he kissed somebody else?

Bucky wasn’t sure what to think of that.

The overlays and the knowledge he had a soulmate had been a part of Bucky his entire adult life. Could he live without knowing _who_ his soulmate was? Could he give up the dream he’d been harboring for more years than he could remember?

Steve’s blue eyes and soft smile filled his mind, and for the first time ever, he contemplated that maybe, _yes_ , he might be able to entertain the idea about moving on and living without his soulmate. It was a thought that stunned Bucky to his core, and he immediately grabbed a beer and sat on his single seater, watching the street blindly, seeing nothing but shapes as thoughts crashed through his mind.

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! I just wanted to thank you all for jumping on this fic with me - soulmates can be a tricky one, but everyone's just climbed aboard and trusted me with it! Which is such a huge thrill for me ❤ (and Steve and Bucky appreciate it too...)
> 
> So enjoy the update - things are starting to heat up with these boys and it's going to get a little bit more complicated!

**Steve**

Steve woke up on the ground shivering, charcoal broken in his hand, wondering what the hell had happened. His large easel was on its side, fallen to the floor, and the wrong shade of blue streaked across the face of a man whose features he couldn't shake from his mind.

Steve, not for the first time, had worked himself into exhaustion and judging by the seven or so drawings strewn around the room, about fifteen hours of work give or take, he knew why. Every page depicted Bucky's face, a different expression on each. Groaning, he sat up properly and rubbed a hand over his face, the grit in his eyes irritating. Thankfully his glasses had fallen clear, undamaged. He was so damn predictable.

Steve was trying to escape the attraction, paint it out, remove it from his system.

There were too many reasons in his life on why he shouldn't form an attachment with his upstairs neighbour; and there was _no_ way Bucky, if given a choice in the matter, of which he had - very much so, would ever reciprocate. 

Not when he looked like… Bucky. 

Steve sighed heavily and gingerly got to his feet, stretching and popping his back. God, he needed to go see someone about a realignment. Sleeping on the floor was not conducive to good posture, and he wasn’t getting any younger.

But instead of wallowing in his own head as was his usual go to after a painting frenzy, he could go out for a run, see if that would help. Steve had been holed up in his apartment for too long, and fresh air could be the catalyst to get him out of his funk, to think about something other than Bucky and the fact he shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of something more with him. Friendship was great, it was grand, something to aspire to. He'd be thrilled in fact to be able to call Bucky his friend, have someone close to him that wasn't Peggy or Wanda or their partners. Carve out his own niche, his own relationships.

But who was he kidding (not himself) a physical relationship would be infinitely better, he couldn’t deny it, it had been quite a few years since he’d been intimate with someone longer than just a quick hookup through an app. Yet the pull he felt towards Bucky was exponentially more than any random attraction he’d had in the past, and to be honest - it was scary. 

The connection he and Bucky shared, that hopefully was _not_ one-sided, had the potential to derail what he thought he’d wanted for all of his life. And even though he was done with his soulmate, done with waiting for him - he kind of _wasn’t_. 

For years he’d been pushing aside the hurt, the what if’s, the rejection, saying that if he met somebody else, he wouldn’t think twice and just fall in love, kiss them and pretend his soulmate didn’t exist. And now that an actual living, breathing man was standing before him, who could conceivably be the kind of person he _could_ have more with, Steve wasn’t sure. Couldn't let go of his ideologies for some reason.

The feeling of abandonment was a tricky emotion to navigate. Steve’s in particular, fraught with complications wrapped up with his ma’s death. Sometimes he didn’t know how to untangle the two and he _knew_ that his mother didn’t purposely leave him in this life alone, had been hoping that Steve would have met his soulmate prior to her passing away, wanted to make sure he was okay, looked after, happy. And maybe that’s why when he thought back to his early twenties, trying to work through his grief for the loss of a parental figure, yet keeping hope that his soulmate would appear to help navigate the emotions, hurt so much. 

Because no one came. 

Annoyed at letting his thoughts fester, Steve made the decision to head out and started with a hot shower to get some warmth and movement back into his bones, thankful it wasn’t the middle of winter, as laying on the cold floor all night could have been disastrous. Putting his contact lenses in, followed by a pair of loose running shorts paired with his favourite workout shirt, complete with small holes around the collar and his shoes, he was soon off.

There was something about the feel of the ground under his feet, the thumping, the methodical pace, the feeling of being as light as air as he bounced across the street and made for a small park around the corner. Usually Steve listened to music, but today he wanted to be at one with New York and hear all the stories she whispered between the buildings. 

He felt better already.

Inhaling deeply, Steve kept up the brisk pace, sweat starting to bead down his forehead, and he wiped it away, kept running, having no idea _when_ he’d stop. He really should head back to the gym, he’d never felt as good about himself as when he was working out, looking after himself properly. Steve had been lacking some self care, had for a while now. 

Eventually he turned himself around, knowing if we went too far, he wouldn't have the energy to return. And with sure and steady steps, he jogged back to the apartment.

Steve arrived in a sweaty but satisfied heap, pleased to have done something for himself, and the distraction was necessary too.

He fell into the foyer and although it was gross, Steve grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and wiped the sweat off his face, holding the fabric against his eyes a moment, soaking up the wetness.

A noise startled him, something dropped to the ground and he heard a deep voice say 'fuck'.

Ripping his shirt down, absolutely mortified that someone had seen his entire torso on display, especially paired with his tiny running shorts, he just about died of embarrassment. Of all the people in the building, why couldn't it have been Mr Mason from 5d?

"Hey Bucky," Steve greeted breathlessly, thankful his face was red from running, as he knew it would be a bright hue without that excuse. He watched with interest as Bucky fumbled and picked up the mail from his feet, obviously having dropped it.

"Steve..." Bucky said, face pink, eyes sketchy as they looked Steve up and down head to toe, lingering on his stomach, thankfully covered now. "You… we, you run?"

Smiling at Bucky’s flustering, wondering why he was acting strange; Steve nodded, still trying to catch his breath, unable to say too much just yet, "do you run?"

Bucky didn't reply at first, just stared at Steve, unwavering, eyes dark and piercing and if Steve didn't know better, he'd say that Bucky seemed… nervous.

“Yeah, sometimes… we should go together.” The shocked look on Bucky’s face indicated he’d not meant to blurt that out, and Steve wondered if the offer was genuine or if he felt obligated. But then Bucky’s face hardened in resolve, “I mean if you’d like, it’s been a while since I’ve had someone to run with.”

“Oh,” Steve said, trying to get his brain to function without imagining Bucky in small shorts and a tank, face red, skin hot, hair in a bun, dripping in sweat, breath heaving - and he was getting a boner. “I’d love that, lets hook up.”

Bucky’s eyes went saucer wide. _Oh crap._

“God, sorry - I meant, let’s hook up a time and go running… err, yeah, I should go…” Steve gestured to the stairs behind Bucky, needing to escape, put ice on his blazing cheeks and forget that somehow the English language deserted him when speaking to this man.

“Alright, catch you round,” Bucky said as Steve barrelled past him, leaving a stunned looking Bucky in his wake. He was such an idiot in social situations, too out of practise.

“Yep, will do,” Steve threw over his shoulder and raced up the stairs, lungs hurting by the time he reached his landing and let himself inside.

Leaning against his door like a confused teenager who’d just spoken to their crush for the first time, Steve shook his head against the mortifying words he’d blabbed, then tried to sort out Bucky’s reaction, but just couldn’t place it.

Silver lining, Steve might end up seeing Bucky more often, though that brought up its own set of issues. Most pressing - how was Steve supposed to jog beside the most gorgeous man on the planet without tripping over his feet a million times and face planting it into the sidewalk?

Grabbing a water, Steve went and sat on his sofa, breathing in deeply, trying to grasp back the contented feeling he’d felt on his run, but suddenly it was all jumbled up. Typical.

Then the overlay started and Steve threw his hands up in the air.

“Alright life, want to throw anything else at me?”

He sat back on the couch and it took only a second to realise this was different to every other overlay he’d ever had. 

Steve gulped. 

Hard.

> _Fingers scrambled with his jeans, unbuttoning them with a franticness he’d not experienced in years, pushing them over his hips until they fell to the floor. He landed heavily on a chair, looking down at his lap, his dick standing up proudly, hard, stiff, begging for a hand._
> 
> _Wrapping his fingers around it, he tugged once, twice, testing. His chest heaving up and down in his peripheral before licking a thick wet stripe of saliva across his palm. He reached back down, gripping tightly, eyes shutting for a moment, then they were open again, the jerking intense, the twisting of his wrist masterful._
> 
> _It was quick and dirty, hand flying over the end of his dick with every pass, catching on the head, making his eyes close every so often. He wasn’t going for long and steady, but fast, with a desperation to it. His eyes began to glaze over as his hand kept up the punishing pace, until he stiffened up, blackness fell over as he came, eyes closed._
> 
> _When he opened them again, mess coated his stomach, his sculpted abs twitching, thick globs of clear and white dripping across them, one line sliding down the side of his stomach. A finger reached out and swiped through it..._

Steve blinked back into himself, breathing laboured, his own hand stuffed down the front of his shorts, stroking himself, gripping his own dick tight, then loose, jerking without the frenzy, but with intent.

“Holy fuck…” he breathed, his hand starting to mimic what he’d seen in the overlay.

Twenty years, it took twenty years and he finally had seen more of his soulmate than ever before. His cock was glorious, his abdominals lickable, especially covered in his release and Steve leant back on his chair, pushing his own shorts over his slim hips, exposing himself to the air. He wasn’t as thick as his soulmate, but he was longer, had a curve halfway down, which past partners had said made all the difference when deep inside of them. He wanted to be buried to the hilt in his soulmate… 

Or Bucky.

He was too far gone into pleasure to worry about the fact instead of thinking about his one true love, he suddenly had a picture in his mind of kneeling before Bucky, blue eyes heavy in desire looking down at Steve, cock shoved into Steve’s mouth, as he licked and sucked on what he knew would be a gorgeous dick. Bucky throwing his head back, hand cupping Steve’s cheek, feeling himself slid in and out of his mouth through the skin.

“Oh, shit…” Steve yelled as he twitched, the feeling of release already welling, and if he wasn’t so turned on, he’d be embarrassed at straddling the edge so quickly.

Stroking with the twist he’d just watched in technicolour, Steve’s breaths came in sharp and short, panting, making small noises in the back of his throat the closer he got to release.

And as he came, he strangled out one word, and it was life changing, altered his perception on almost everything.

“Bucky…”

  
  


**Bucky**

He was going to hell, there was a special place reserved for men who couldn’t control their dicks. Bucky lay back on his sofa, gasping for air, come dripping across his stomach, cooling and starting to go tacky.

Shutting his eyes, he couldn’t get the image of Steve out of his mind, it was ingrained, right next to the mental pictures of his soulmates hands, except now, Steve was overshadowing those. He was funny, tangible and utterly gorgeous, delightful and warm. 

Steve was real.

Picking up mail was not supposed to lead to the most erotic fantasies and the best (and quickest) wank of his life. But as he walked out with his junk mail, because that’s all there was on a Sunday, a Tupperware catalogue from a Mrs Watson, he heard the front door open and close with a whoosh of air, and saw Steve enter.

But Steve wasn’t standing there with his gorgeous smile on display as he looked at Bucky. _No_ , Steve had no idea anyone was in the foyer if the way he grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt pulling it up to wipe his face of sweat was any indication; and Bucky almost dropped to his knees next to the open page of a great deal on a four pack of stackable containers at the sight.

Steve was wearing the smallest shorts known to man, and his… _christ,_ his cock, because that’s exactly what it was, a Cock, long, large and - _bulging_ was on full display through the thin fabric. But that wasn’t all, even though it would have been enough to fuel Bucky’s fantasies for months, years - he had to go and have the most touchable, beautiful stomach. It was soft, small in nature as was the rest of him, but the hardness laying underneath was visible in the way he moved as he wiped his face. Bucky wanted to worship it for the rest of his days, tongue thick in his mouth as the _want_ slammed into him.

Sighing - he got up and cleaned himself off. Steve wasn’t his, not in any way that mattered.

But could he be?

Bucky turned the shower on, stepping into it, easier to clean his whole body than to do a half hearted job wiping off his mess, and thought more on it.

What was Steve’s story? From what Bucky had seen so far, which to be fair was not a lot, Steve didn’t have a soulmate, and that could mean a few different things. He might not have met them yet, like Bucky, although that would be too big of a coincidence. Most people had at least met their soulmate by the time they were in their early thirties - Bucky knowing his situation was relatively unique. So that left the options that they’d decided not to be together for whatever reason, Steve had kissed someone else or maybe one had passed away. Bucky could also be projecting.

There was only one thing for it, he’d invite Steve around, get to know him, test the waters and see what he could glean.

Bucky had an opportunity the following week to action his rather sneaky, yet not really all that sneaky plan. Steve was coming down the stairs two at a time, a hop in his step and almost crashed into Bucky. He instinctively reached out to steady him, holding Steve upright, a hand either side of his waist and boy did that feel good. Right.

“Where’s the fire?” Bucky said, and immediately wanted to facepalm himself, “and now I sound like my grandpa.” 

Steve’s laugh absolved any lingering embarrassment, until he realised he’d not let go of Steve and they were closer than proper, although what was proper anyway?

“Sorry, like I said, no one else uses the stairs, I’m going to have to adjust my thinking when I run down here.”

Bucky wanted to tell him not to, he enjoyed being able to touch and have a legitimate reason to do so if they bumped into each other, and that reminded him of what he wanted to ask.

“All good, just stomp loudly and I’ll slide to the left, you run down the right.” Steve beamed and then looked down at where Bucky’s hands had somehow slid down to encase his hips, and he let go quickly, noting the way Steve’s smile faltered a little, “are you doing anything tonight?”

Clearly startled and not expecting the question, Steve raised an eyebrow, “uh, no, why’s that?”

Taking the bull by the proverbial horns, Bucky gave Steve his most charming of smiles, “want to come over and watch a movie, grab a bite to eat?”

“Why?” Steve’s question, blunt, and he winced. Bucky had misjudged this terribly, “Jesus, sorry, that was so freaking rude. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I guess I meant - why me?”

Taking a second to work through what had just been said, Bucky tilted his head and looked at Steve, really looked at him. Steve’s face pink, looking contrite and truly Bucky believed he’d not meant his words to be so cutting. But still, it wasn’t pleasant being on the receiving end of a maybe rejection, even misguided. But his self preservation came roaring back, and he wasn’t going to blurt out that the reason was due to wanting to instigate some form of romantic liaison.

“Well, I think you’re really interesting, I’d like to get to know my neighbours better, and we’re about the same age and I have The Goonies lined up and figured you’d be in for it.”

“The Goonies? God, I haven’t seen that since I was a kid. Yeah, alright, what time, what can I bring?”

Ten minutes later Bucky was back in his apartment looking around, and suddenly the four hours before Steve arrival wasn’t enough time to get his place in a suitable state. He needed to scrub the grout between the tiles behind the oven - it was unacceptable!

But, in the end, he’d wrangled his place clean and tidy (the oven was gleaming), grabbed snacks and had his three person sofa looking as inviting as possible, secretly hoping Steve would choose to sit on the same sofa as him and not the single seater. The throw rug, that really didn’t go with anything (why was Nat _always_ right) sat waiting in case it got chilly and they had to snuggle. Bucky absolutely needed to rein in his daydreams.

The knock on his door almost sent him into a panic and he had to talk himself down, this was _not_ his soulmate, this was just a guy who he really liked, wanted to get to know better, then maybe Steve would then let Bucky get on his knees and suck him until he couldn’t speak or move.

Simple.

“Hey.” Bucky said articulately as he opened the door, rendered speechless at the sight that greeted him. He was not prepared, not at all. He needed a do over, more time to organise himself, because Bucky was going to make the biggest fool of himself over this man.

Steve’s hair looked soft, touchable, pushed to the side with a bit of product and he smelt nice, better than nice, he smelt amazing. He was dressed casually, those ripped jeans making a reappearance, but this time he’d paired it with a deep maroon fitted sweater and Bucky couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Uh, can I come in? I mean I can see half the TV from here, but I don’t want to miss the pirate ship and Sloth sliding down the sail like Errol Flynn.”

Bucky was in love. 

“Sure,” he moved away from the door and saw the way Steve frowned at his response, he couldn’t talk, not right then, if he did he was liable to blurt out something about getting naked, and he hadn’t even served the nibbles yet. Wasn’t there a seduction etiquette to follow?

He grabbed them a couple of beers from the fridge, and when Steve reached for his, Bucky went still.

“You okay?” Steve asked, his voice holding an edge of uncertainty, and Bucky was floored, couldn’t move, was stuck watching hands that looked so familiar. Allowing himself the time to stare, to look properly and... there was _no_ way. He finally glanced up into Steve’s eyes, falling into the blue depths for a moment.

“Do you have a soulmate?” Bucky blurted and judging by the tightening of Steve’s eyes, it was the wrong thing to say before they’d even taken a sip of beer. He’d at least opened a bag of nuts, so they had one form of snack readily available, that had to count for something. But he found his eyes dropping immediately back to the bottle Steve held, unable to draw his gaze from Steve’s hands. How had he not noticed them before? 

“Right into the hard stuff, hey?” Steve said, then took a big swig of beer, before moving to sit on one end of the sofa, Bucky felt calmer as he sat next to him, not close, but at least they were on the same chair. Bucky’s gaze fell to the fingers playing with the label, mesmerized, heart lodged in his throat. “Alright then, so I’ve...”

Steve trailed off, then stayed silent for a long moment, and Bucky jumped in feeling like an ass, “Shit, sorry. I mean, you don’t have to answer.”

Bucky thrummed with nerves. He really _did_ want an answer.

“It’s fine, there’s not much to tell, and I guess it comes up in all new rela… friendships at some point.”

Bucky nodded, deciding to speak first, not his plan, but he didn’t want Steve to feel any more uncomfortable than Bucky had already made him. Christ, he’d invited him over for an eighties movie night, not to be accosted two seconds after arriving about soulmates.

“I’ve never met mine,” Bucky said simply, and the way Steve’s grip faltered on the bottle almost unnoticeable, but Bucky was watching those hands intently.

“Same,” Steve husked out, then took another sip, unaware that Bucky’s breath had stopped in his chest. “And to be honest, it’s almost normal now. Not knowing, I guess.”

Bucky’s heart started a sharp thumping staccato at the news, Steve couldn’t have been much over thirty, maybe mid thirties like Bucky. And he too was still waiting, there was _no_ way it could mean, no. Just no - but… those hands.

“How long?” he asked quietly, almost not able to hear over the white noise in his ears.

“Twenty years.” Steve shrugged, and looked away, taking a handful of nuts and Bucky was left looking at Steve’s profile. He was so very gorgeous in the soft lighting of the lamp, and Bucky couldn’t help the bitter surge of disappointment tinged with acceptance. 

Steve wasn’t his soulmate.

He wanted to laugh bitterly, of course this perfect man wasn’t his by design.

“I’m fifteen years,” Bucky replied quietly, their times not aligning at all, too many years apart. “Both waiting around for a while, hey?”

Steve’s eyes were wide, the blue almost luminescent as he searched Bucky’s face, maybe trying to find the truth, check if he were lying.

“Yeah, I just. I don’t know. I got my first glaze at fifteen,” he ignored Bucky’s shocked inhale, he was so young, “the Doctors believe it had something to do with the fact I was sick as a child. Actually, to be honest I almost died at ten. Technically I did, for a few minutes. Death didn’t stick.”

Bucky was hard pressed to stay seated, he wanted to jump up and sit right next to Steve, protect him from something that had happened twenty five years earlier. He remained where he was.

“Shit, Steve, that’s… that’s a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” he said with a tight chuckle, “anyway, there’s not a lot of research, but they said it might have messed with my internal clock or fucking _magic,_ or whatever shit they say soulmates stem from, meaning I got it at an earlier age than usual.”

Bucky hummed, interested that maybe Steve was also starting to question the whole concept of soulmates, if the tone in his voice was any indication. That it might not be for him. If so, Bucky might have a chance to explore more with Steve, test the waters.

“Movie?”

“Fuck yes…” Steve breathed, and suddenly he was smiling at Bucky, and his heart jammed, unsure if it would start again. “Thanks.”

“For what?” Bucky asked, voice surprisingly steady, and pointed the remote at the TV, starting the movie. Cyndi Lauper filled the speakers a moment later.

“For not freaking out, asking a million questions, looking at me with pity.”

“Pal, I’m in the same boat as you, you won’t find pity here.” He wanted to add that Steve could find more with him if he wanted, but thought they’d best just watch Goonies first. But the urge to say it was oddly compelling. “What I love about this movie is that Mikey grew up to be Sam in Lord of The Rings.”

“Oh, shit, yeah, you’re right.” Steve replied, grin still firmly in place, Bucky relieved to see it wasn’t forced, then Steve settled back on the sofa. “Nice throw rug.”

Laughing, Bucky adored the teasing note in Steve’s voice, it really was an awful shade, but now he kind of wanted to keep the rug. And if Bucky moved a little closer ten minutes later, Steve didn’t notice or remark on it.

They ate takeout on their laps, sharing stories of growing up on old movies, then when Goonies was over it took no less than three seconds for Steve to agree to watch Top Gun, another go-to for both of them growing up.

Bucky’s sides were hurting from laughing at the commentary Steve gave on the movie, but it was when they started the third movie of the night, ‘Earth Girls Are Easy’ that Steve’s natural sense of humour came through.

He didn’t care about proprietary anymore, what was seemly, what wasn’t. Bucky was running on instincts, too many beers and giddy with endorphins from laughing and enjoying Steve’s company. Not just enjoying but relishing in his wit, the way he smirked and gave Bucky the side-eye when he was in full teasing mode. Seemingly pleased that Bucky reciprocated with his own barbs and comments. 

They just clicked.

“God, you're amazing Steve, your soulmate is missing out.” The words slipped out unchecked as Geena Davis ran around in double denims with a strangely attractive Jeff Goldblum, and he realised he probably shouldn’t have blurted that, as true as it was.

When Steve didn’t answer he looked over, only to find Steve watching him, eyes flicking to Bucky’s mouth and he couldn’t help lick them. It was a dangerous thing to do. 

Steve took in a shaky breath, before looking back at the TV. “Yeah. Well, I assume he's seen me in an overlay and didn’t like what he saw.”

The anger and denial rose swiftly within Bucky, furious that someone’s soulmate would do that, but also sad Steve thought so little of himself. He was perfect, gorgeous and the best thing to have walked into Bucky’s life in a long time. Steve gave him hope that he could find a measure of happiness, _hell_ , maybe even more so than what he’d find with a soulmate.

He couldn’t stop himself from sliding over to the other side of the couch, crowding Steve without actually touching him. Leaning in.

Judging by the dilation of Steve’s pupils, and the way he gulped, Bucky’s closeness was something unexpected, but not unwanted.

“Is this okay?” Bucky said and when Steve nodded, he scooted a little further, instincts taking over until their thighs touched and Steve’s eyes fluttered closed at the connection before opening wide again. “Stevie, you’re absolutely perfect. Just the way you are.”

Steve’s eyes tracked Bucky’s, flicking between them, something hungry, bubbling in the depths of them. He felt his resolve harden, he was going to do this, say something. The feeling of absolute joy in the moment cascaded over Bucky, silencing the concern that it was all too quick, rushed, that they hardly knew each other. It felt right. No, it felt perfect.

Plus, what did he have to lose?

“And you know, if he _did_ see you and think those untrue thoughts, well then, I’d say he’s not only the biggest idiot in the world, but in the whole universe too.” 

Pausing for a breath, Bucky's hand caught the underside of Steve’s chin, the tremble not visible, but Bucky felt it all the same. “You Steve, are someone very special.”

Bucky closed the gap between them, his nose rubbing softly over Steve’s, once, twice, three times in a show of deep affection, before pressing his lips against Steve’s cheek, watching as his eyes closed softly at the last moment. Bucky lingered on the soft skin, savouring the closeness of the moment. 

The unexpected desire to take Steve’s mouth, to devour his lips in a kiss, to make him Bucky’s and only his was shocking. There was no way he’d kiss Steve on the lips, the place reserved for soulmates, not yet. Maybe not ever.

Steve’s soft moan kick-started something deep in Bucky’s chest, and his lips trailed over Steve’s cheek until he found his ear, nipping at it softly.

“You’re stunning, and I’m completely and utterly captivated by you,” Bucky whispered huskily into Steve’s ear, body alive, jumping in nerves, anticipation and _want_ slamming into his very cells, everything in him screamed out to claim Steve, _no_ , to have Steve claim him.

Suddenly Steve was pushing Bucky by the shoulder and shocked he let go, leaning back to give him space, but that was not what Steve wanted, because two seconds later he’d swung his leg up and over until he was straddling Bucky, pressing his lithe body against him, chest to chest. He was now slightly higher than Bucky so he had to look up as Steve took control. 

Bucky sighed deeply, feeling something unnamable settle in his stomach, and then Steve pressed his nose against his for the barest moment, before he moved away, and the plush lips Bucky couldn't look away from, attacked his neck. Bucky's body bowed and he threw his head back on the sofa, giving Steve all the room he wanted, gasping as teeth grazed his throat, over his Adam's apple.

When Steve finally moved back, mouth leaving his burning hot skin, Bucky lowered his head, licking his lips and trying to regain some footing, but before he could articulate anything at all, Steve was there, right in front of him, lips barely a whisper away. Warm air escaped Steve’s body like a caress against Bucky's own wet mouth, like they’d already kissed, had already pulled back, sharing something you only did with the person you were pledging your life and heart to. And Bucky went dizzy, unconsciously leaning forward the smallest amount, then Steve wasn't there.

It took a moment to realise he was up and off Bucky, eyes stricken, and Bucky’s apology stuck in his throat as Steve grabbed his phone off the arm of the sofa.

“I’ve… fuck - I’m sorry Buck. I’ve gotta go.” Then Steve was really gone.

It all happened so quickly and Bucky was still sitting there, the ghost of Steve’s lips almost on his own with the realisation he _wanted_ to kiss Steve in that moment. 

No wonder he fled, Bucky had almost taken away Steve's choice, his _soulmate_ without a conversation and his heart thumped loud and panicked in his chest. An acidic feeling filled him, dousing the butterflies previously flying around in his stomach.

Bucky was a terrible person.

Slumped on the sofa, Bucky cursed himself for messing everything up so spectacularly. He'd honestly invited Steve over to get to know him, become friendly, to see if they'd connect. Connect they did though, with a fire and a passion Bucky had never experienced before, hadn't thought he _could_ experience.

And as the aliens left in their little yellow spaceship on screen, only to come back for Geena Davis, Bucky had a feeling that he wouldn’t be as lucky, and that Steve _wouldn’t_ be coming back.

  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello - hi! 
> 
> Here we are - officially at the half way mark, well just over!
> 
> You guys have been AMAZING and supportive and I can't get over how much you've backed this soulmate idea, honestly I'm floored ❤
> 
> And enough from me - you're not here to read my ramblings (other ramblings lol)!
> 
> So things definitely get a little spicier here, as they try and work through what they feel... 😏
> 
> Enjoy...

**Steve**

It had been a week since he’d almost kissed Bucky, a week of imagining how wonderful his lips would feel on his. A week since he’d almost taken something monumental from Bucky without asking first.

Steve was a terrible person.

The movie night was vivid in his memory, everything about it perfect, Bucky’s words lifting Steve’s spirits in a way that made him feel worthy, made him feel cherished, started to ease the awful memories of abandonment that hung around his neck like a noose. He started to wonder if Bucky could be his salvation, each others’ in fact. That they could be the ones to navigate life together, choose a burgeoning love instead of having one preordained.

Then it all got... confusing.

Steve had ‘made-out’ with people before, slept with them in fact, but being so close to Bucky, sharing nose kisses, and touching his mouth upon Bucky’s skin was a whole new experience. His instincts took over, he couldn’t figure out where he stopped and Bucky began, Steve was one big ball of _feeling,_ unable to stop, to think, to act rationally. And that’s what caught Steve off guard, the ease at which he lost himself. Lost all reasoning and with only a breath between their lips, he almost ruined everything.

“Fuck,” he said into the stillness of his kitchen, kettle whistling loudly, had been for some time it seemed. Swearing again, he grabbed a cloth and saved his kettle, _and_ his ears, filling his ‘artists do it creatively’ mug, the smell of peppermint tea hitting his nostrils a moment later.

Dragging his feet he made his way to the studio, sighing at the sight of Bucky’s face staring back at him over an array of different pictures, all done in varying mediums. Abstractly, they were good pieces, a brilliant study of man… one man in particular. Though every painting was missing something important, the eyes remained void of colour. Steve unable to get the tone, the mix of blue correct. So the brilliant and unfilled white of eyes stared back at him, and Steve could sense their judgement.

“Why the hell did you almost kiss him? Are you the biggest idiot to walk to earth?” he said hotly into the small space, placing his mug down to pick up a piece of charcoal he spied on the floor.

Within moments, he was sitting on the ground, doodling on a piece of ripped parchment, eyes tracking the charcoal as it stained the page.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but when he blinked back into himself, Steve was looking at the most perfect lips in the world. And they belong to Bucky.

Steve was falling in love.

He had to talk to Peggy.

The coffee shop was busy, Steve arriving first and knowing Peggy wasn’t far away, he ordered her favourite and grabbed a slice of cake to share, finding a spare booth near the window.

Steve watched people walk by abstractly, seeing shape and colours, planning his next painting that was _not_ of Bucky, when she arrived.

“Oh lord, it’s worse than I thought,” she started, shrugging off her tailored jacket and sliding in before Steve, “you got extra whipped cream and is that a chocolate malt ball in your coffee?”

Looking down, Steve saw the most sugary item on the board and frowned. It wasn’t his usual order, and he took a sip, tasting the vanilla in it. Jesus, he couldn’t even order a coffee without Bucky somehow creeping into his subconscious.

“I just felt like something different,” he replied and shrugged, taking another sip that set his teeth on edge. What was he thinking?

“Right…” Peggy said, steepling her fingers to rest her chin on them, staring directly into his soul. Maybe catching up with Peggy wasn’t a great idea. He was still feeling a little raw. “Spill.”

Steve scratched the back of his head and went to take another sip to avoid answering straight away, but couldn’t, he needed to add salt or something to the drink masquerading as coffee, how did you counteract sweet?

“Steve.” Peggy admonished, “I know this routine better than you. Tell me what’s going on, I’m worried.”

Taking a breath, Steve knew he’d called her for a reason and was acting like a brat by not falling straight into telling her his woes, but he didn’t want to burst the bubble of what he’d done, what he felt deep in his bones. In that exact moment it belonged to him, almost a dream, a fantasy. The moment he spoke the words, it became reality, to be held up to the cold light of day to be judged. Steve wasn’t ready, but also knew he never would be.

“I think I’m falling in love.”

Peggy sat back in her chair heavily, eyes wide, but instead of seeing judgement, he saw warmth and acceptance, and for the first time all week he realised that it might just be all okay.

“Is this your neighbour, the one you haven’t shut up about the last month or so. James?”

“Yeah… uh, Bucky.” Steve looked around, hoping no one in the shop overheard the conversation. It was one thing to tell Peggy, but another to have strangers listening in to his private affairs. “But I think I screwed it all up.”

“Lay it on me,” Peggy said, picking up a fork and taking a bite of the carrot cake Steve had ordered for them. “Hang on, try this icing first, amazing.”

Steve laughed and shook his head, the tension that had been building, broken, knowing now he could get his story out, needing to. He required fresh eyes on what he’d been obsessing over for the past week.

Once he began speaking, it didn’t take as long as he thought, and Peggy nodded at the right times, asking clarifying questions when needed and Steve could tell by the end of it, that she was mulling over all he’d said.

“Alright, so you feel a connection with him, a strong one, something you can’t explain, right?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s strange, I just feel, I don’t know, alive around him. I’ve never felt like this before, and you know I dated a lot in my twenties, was with Lorraine for a while. But not once did I want to kiss her lips, nor did I feel a pull towards her and she didn’t consume my thoughts, not like this. I definitely wasn’t at all thinking of love. And maybe that was my age and faith in my soulmate. But now…”

“This feels different,” Peggy supplied and he nodded. “Are you _certain_ he’s not your soulmate?”

The awful sinking feeling in his chest started and Steve shook his head, wishing it weren’t so. He’d had a moment when Bucky said he’d not met his soulmate either, excitement and disbelief welling, but it wasn’t to be. Of course Bucky wasn’t his by divine intervention.

“He said he's been waiting fifteen years and I've been twenty, so our overlays didn't start at the same time, there's no date for us to match up, to confirm." Steve took a breath, went to have another sip of coffee and thought better of it. "When he first said it had been a really long time, a part of me sang, I don't know how to explain it, but I was on fire and chilled at the same time, cold and sweaty, thinking it was the moment. The moment I'd found them. But no, he wasn't, the timing is too off." Steve paused again, and sighed, "There was that one case in the fifties, where the overlays happened in the same year, not at the same time like they’re supposed to, but five years - it's impossible.”

Peggy nodded her head slowly, “that’s… it’s disappointing, if it was him and you were out of sync for some reason, it would explain why the soul-matching companies didn’t work. Why they couldn’t match you with anyone, but....” Peggy stopped her thoughts and Steve could see her calculating something behind her eyes, but she didn’t voice it, just ate some more cake. “Seriously this cream cheese icing is divine.”

Steve, feeling like he was missing out, finally placed a bite on his tongue, the flavour exploding immediately, “god, you’re right.”

Then she spoke, words hitting him low in the gut and he almost choked on his mouthful, “you need to speak to James, sorry, Bucky. Tell him how you feel, see what his response is. From what you’ve said I think he’s not going to say no to exploring more with you.”

“But, I can’t.” Steve started and then shut his mouth with a snap at the look Peg threw him, “okay, okay, but I can’t tell him my feelings, not yet - it’s _way_ too soon. People don’t just fall in love within a couple of weeks after only spending a handful of hours together. Do they?”

“Well, I don’t know to be perfectly honest, I’ve only fallen in love once and he _was_ my soulmate, and it was almost instantaneous. But this pull you feel sounds very much like what Daniel and I felt in the early stages, before we kissed. But Steve, you’d be a fool not to see where the possibilities could take you. That maybe you and Bucky would be a good fit, soulmate or not.”

“A fool is an apt description for me at the moment. I was a fool the other night too. Seems that’s all I am around him.”

“That may be so, but you’ll kick yourself for eternity if you don’t try.”

And that was the catalyst he needed, the push, the words he’d been searching for. Peggy was right, Steve knew she was, knew it deep inside; he just needed to hear it externally, not just from his own inner voice.

“But I’m not talking about my feelings, not the big ones anyway. And I’m definitely not bringing up kissing. But I _will_ talk to him.”

“That’s my boy,” Peggy said with a knowing smile, “now, let’s see about getting another slice of this cake.”

Steve grinned and headed back to the display case, maybe he’d get a slice of the pecan one as well.

That evening Steve stood in front of his bathroom mirror, trying to get his hair to behave, to sit properly. It was a lost cause. Instead he dressed himself in his nicest pair of slim fit jeans, a navy blue button down, loafers and a blazer and then paced his kitchen for half an hour.

“Just go up there. It’s one flight of stairs, you know where his apartment is. Don’t be a pussy.” The pep talk was not helping.

He heard a bang from above his head, and knew Bucky was home, moving furniture he guessed by the scraping sound coming through the ceiling. He had no excuses not to go up.

“All you have to do is say your piece and if he’s not interested, walk away, pack your bags and move to LA. Simple.” Steve really needed to give up motivational speaking.

But it was true. All he had to do was stand before Bucky and say that he wanted to see if the spark between them could grow into something more. He didn’t need to talk about sex, or love or kisses. All that needed to be ascertained was if Bucky felt the same bubble of want inside, that he felt a pull, that he was interested in Steve on more than just a friendship level, and if so, they could have a beer, chat, get to know each other, do it right. Fall into each other with their eyes wide open, knowing what was coming, what to expect. 

There was no need for it to become physical, not straight away, no matter how much Steve might want it.

So with these thoughts bolstering him, he left his apartment and slowly climbed the stairs to the next landing. Standing before Bucky’s door, hand raised ready to knock, he lost his nerve, but then in a fit of confidence, tapped three times hard.

He heard the footsteps arrive at the door and the locks unclick, and suddenly Bucky was before him, blue eyes wide, apprehensive, but the smile indicated he was pleased to see Steve.

Steve drank him in. It had only been eight days, but felt longer. Bucky was wearing a pair of dark grey sweats, a college hoodie and his hair was pulled back in a wet mess, just out of the shower if his pink skin was any indication. He was painfully gorgeous.

“Hey, Steve, how you been?” Bucky asked, voice soft, as if worried he’d spook him.

Steve took in a deep breath, steeling himself for his long winded explanation on how they should explore a relationship, take things slow and apologise for his behaviour.

“I think we should sleep together,” he blurted instead.

And what the _hell_ was that?

  
  


**Bucky**

Bucky knew his jaw had hit the floor, could almost feel the phantom pain from it. It had been over a week with radio silence from Steve, and Bucky thought he’d completely ruined any form of friendship, potential relationship by being innapropriate and trying to kiss him unsolicited. Not only was it the biggest faux pas you could conceivably push upon another person, but in Bucky’s book he’d almost forced Steve into a situation and had felt sick in the gut since. 

Sure he could have knocked on Steve’s door, made amends, but he was scared. It was better to live in hope, no matter how futile, than to have rejection slammed in his face with the shut of a door. Never given the chance to make reparation.

But here was Steve, standing before him, looking like the most delicious morsel to ever walk the planet, saying something he could only have ever dreamed of.

“I -”

“- this was a mistake,” Steve rambled, cheeks bright red, eyes darting over Bucky’s face and before he could respond, Steve went to flee.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Bucky said, gripping Steve’s arm, not tight, in case he really did want to escape, but loose enough to let the smaller man know that he was wanted there. That Bucky wanted him to stay. “I think you should come in. If you want. No pressure.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed, hearing the truth in Bucky’s voice, “oh right, that would be... good.”

It wasn’t exactly the enthusiasm Bucky was hoping to hear, but it was a start, and at least Steve was coming inside.

“Want a drink?” Bucky asked, heading to the kitchen as Steve looked out the window and not in his direction, allowing Bucky a moment to look his fill. To memorise the perfect profile, the lines of Steve, all dressed up... for what? A date?

“I honestly didn’t mean to say... that.” Steve said quietly and Bucky’s heart sank.

“Oh, are you sure?” He was clearly a masochist, needing to hear it point blank that Steve didn’t want him like that.

Steve hummed and shook his head, “Umm… I’m _not_ sure - actually.” 

It was the hesitation in Steve’s voice, the way his cheeks were still stained red, and the soft almost shy look he gave Bucky through his eyelashes. Was Steve for real? He had to know what that particular look did to Bucky? And that’s when Bucky went, _fuck it_. If he had any shot at all, for anything, he had to take it.

“Steve, I’m not going to lie. I’ve been thinking about you in that way since the moment we met. The attraction between us is undeniable, you feel it too right?”

The surprised jerk of Steve’s head towards him made Bucky realise that somehow in his entire life, Steve may have been under the misguided idea that he _wasn’t_ a catch, had no idea how desirable Bucky found him.

“You have? Truly?" Steve raised a brow, "And of course I feel it, the attraction I mean, I'm not dead you know.”

Bucky smiled and took a hesitant step forward, noting Steve did the same in return, they were close enough that if they both reached out they’d be touching. Bucky hoped they’d take the last two steps. 

“Truly," Bucky confirmed, "And if you did mean your beautifully blurted words... then, yes, a thousand times yes and -” 

He got no further because Steve was on him, pressed up against him, reaching on tiptoes, and Bucky instinctually leant down so Steve could rub his nose over his tenderly, before moving to his cheek, leaving a lingering kiss and Bucky’s heart exploded, never to be the same again.

Lips hot and warm trailed down to find his neck, just under his ear, the skin sensitive, and he squirmed under Steve's little tongue flicks. Due to the hoodie coming up too high for more skin exposure, Bucky contemplated taking it off, but also didn't know how far they were taking it, if Steve _really_ wanted more. But, Bucky would take anything on offer. Steve said he thought they should sleep together, but did he actually mean that in the biblical sense?

“Take your hoodie off,” Steve demanded against his ear, followed by a nip, and Bucky's knees went wobbly.

Bucky grabbed the scruff of fabric at the neck, pulling it up and off in one swift movement, but of course his t-shirt got tangled up and suddenly he was standing before Steve half naked, wearing nothing but low slung sweats, chest exposed. Before he could apologise and cover up, Steve’s hand came up, tracing the curve of his shoulder, before trailing down, featherlight across his nipple, eliciting a sharp hiss from Bucky. Steve’s eyes shot up to meet Bucky’s, and when he saw it was a good noise, a small confident smirk formed, and Bucky was gone. So gone on this man.

Bucky let Steve take control, not wanting to break the intensity of the moment, allowing Steve to dictate what was happening even though all Bucky wanted to do was pull him close and ravage him until they were both sweaty moaning messes.

“How are you real? How did I get so lucky?” Steve whispered, as his fingers trailed lower, touching where Bucky’s sweats met the skin of his stomach, just barely inches above where his hardness was so very apparent. He didn’t feel shame at his reaction, in fact he was proud, could see that Steve was surprised but pleased Bucky was excited by his touch alone, the anticipation; that Bucky wanted his touch. _Christ,_ Steve had no idea how much he craved those nimble fingers dancing over his skin, seeking, playing and bringing Bucky to his knees.

Bucky needed it to such a degree, he felt he’d be left a shell of a person if Steve were to deny him.

He wasn’t denied.

Steve didn’t hesitate, blowing Bucky’s mind when his hand slid confidently into his loose sweats, grasping his dick, staring directly into his eyes, the blue sparkling back at him, desire apparent in the depths.

Suddenly Steve yanked the sweats over his hips, fabric pooling at his feet, and Bucky stood naked in his living space, Steve still fully dressed with the damn blazer on as his hands expertly started to jerk him off. Dry, bar for the one filthy lick Steve gave his palm while never breaking the gaze between them.

Moaning loudly, because how could he not, Bucky tried to brace himself for the deft fingers and palms that ran soft then hard strokes up his length. Steve’s eyes trained in on his cock, staring with a slight frown, and Bucky went to ask what was wrong, if anything. But Steve shook his head, as if he’d thought something silly, then looked back up with heat.

“You have the most gorgeous dick, Buck. Just like I knew you would, and I wanna wrap my lips around you - can I?”

“Fuck…” Bucky ground out, not believing this was happening, his stomach lurching at the heat in Steve's gaze. 

“Is that a yes?” Steve asked cheekily.

“Yes, that’s a damn… I don’t know, what’s stronger than yes?”

Chuckling, Steve landed on his knees, and for the next ten minutes, Bucky was a mess of sensation. Steve’s mouth warm, and Christ, _talented,_ he lathed and sucked at Bucky’s dick like he couldn’t get enough of it. Nuzzling underneath, licking at his balls, trying to lick further back, but Bucky’s feet tangled in his sweats didn’t allow him to spread his legs any wider. But he was glad, because if Steve’s tongue managed to flick over his hole, Bucky was going to come everywhere. Quickly.

He tangled his fingers in Steve’s silky hair who responded with a pleased hum around him and Bucky suddenly had to get him to stop, wasn’t ready for this to be over. Not yet.

“Stevie?” he pleaded, and the blown eyes that finally opened up made Bucky’s spine quiver.

Steve looked debauched, mouth red, spit running down his chin, cheeks rosy and a blissed out expression in his eyes. “I’m losing my head here, you’re too gorgeous. I won't last if you keep going.”

Steve, looking entirely too pleased with himself, tackled Bucky’s dick again and he jerked his hips pushing into Steve’s mouth hard, unexpectedly. But the noise of pure want from Steve’s throat lanced through Bucky's gut. _Oh_ , Bucky was in much more trouble than he’d first perceived. He wasn’t going to be able to give Steve up. Period.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky tried again, his palm cupping Steve’s cheek, and it was the endearment that stopped Steve’s tongue moving in its maddening swirls, staring up at Bucky, eyes glassy, his expression showing that he thought Bucky hung the moon. Bucky wanted Steve to _always_ look at him in that way. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

Steve’s gaze darkened, and with an obscene pop and one last long lick, he was up on his feet, shrugging the blazer off and unbuttoning his shirt. It was the unconscious way Steve started to undress that made it impossible for Bucky to look away, his demeanor screaming confidence now that they'd decided to sleep together. Steve's spine was straight, lips in a coy smile, watching Bucky watch him as his nimble and deft fingers popped open buttons, each one exposing slivers of skin, of Steve's gorgeous chest and stomach. The peek of smooth paleness through the open shirt was too much and Bucky couldn’t help it, his fingers responding without thought and he reached out, moving one side of the fabric, to trace his fingers along the skin he’d been dreaming about for weeks.

“I want you so much." Bucky rasped as Steve's stomach visibly clenched at the featherlight touch and quiet admission, "You have _no_ idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you.” 

The sharpness of Steve's breathing as it caught in his throat made Bucky look away from where his hand was circling Steve’s belly-button. Bucky had to ask, not wanting to assume, but hoping Steve was open to different things. 

“How do you want to do this? I mean do you have a preference? I... I don’t mind either, so, anything you want.”

The way Steve’s eyelashes fluttered shut then eyes opening soon after, his gaze directly on Bucky was potent, “I'm the same, but in this case, tonight, I want to bury myself deep inside of you - if that’s ok?”

“Jesus, if that’s ok. Just letting you know that you have blanket permission to do anything you want. It’s all yes when it comes to you, no matter _what_ you’re asking.”

Steve looked surprised at Bucky's honest answer, and something undefinable crossed behind his eyes before he looked away, Bucky wondering if he’d said something wrong. But the calm way Steve grabbed his hand, leading them to Bucky’s bedroom, assuaged his worries.

Bucky was prepared like the good boy scout he’d been, moving his stash of condoms and lube within reach of the bed, and when he turned around, it was to find Steve gloriously naked, cock standing out proudly, stroking it while eyeing Bucky hungrily, and his entire nervous system swooped as pure elation filled him. 

Steve’s body may have been smaller than Bucky’s in sheer physicality, but in no way at all was he inferior or off-putting, Steve was in fact the most astonishing man Bucky had ever met, the most desirable and a vice squeezed around his heart every time he realised that Steve was his for the night. For longer - hopefully.

Bucky had never felt this way about anyone he'd slept with, the all consuming desire to own them, to have them return the possessive sentiment, to _want_ to. Bucky's absent soulmate had absolutely nothing on Steve, and he wanted so desperately to kiss him, to ensure they would have each other, and only each other for all eternity, because there was no way in hell Bucky could fathom that a soulmate could eclipse the instinctual need to be Steve's everything. It wasn’t possible.

Steve stalked towards him and manhandled Bucky onto his stomach on the bed, legs spread, open and ready for Steve's slim fingers. Bucky was already in heaven, sucking in air as the anticipation of _finally_ being taken, being filled took hold. Steve took his time at first, the awe clear in his husky voice at the way Bucky drew in his fingers, that he was going to look after him, give him what he needed, and to not worry and that everything was going to be okay. All the spoken platitudes soothed Bucky like nothing else, his heart thumped in his chest with desire, the need to be full, but the words and the soft tones Steve used, the comforting palm up and down his spine calmed Bucky until he was on a fine line between fucking down into the mattress with abandon or melting into it boneless and content.

"You take my fingers so well, Buck. It looks hot as hell from here, watching them disappear into your body, being sucked in - Christ, you're going to feel phenomenal around my cock."

Bucky shuddered at the words, a small whimper leaving his throat, he was desperate for Steve, wanted him beyond reason and the small chuckle from behind him probably meant he'd said some of that out loud.

When he was stretched to Steve’s liking, Steve ignoring his pleas he'd been ready for ages, not relenting until he was satisfied, Bucky was spun over to his back. Suddenly looking up, Bucky was faced with dark blue eyes hooded in desire as they drank in Bucky’s position, and he felt irresistible, beautiful, wanted completely for the first time in his life, for who he was, not for some quick fuck while waiting for somebody else. And when Steve leaned forward, his breath caught, but Steve’s lips didn’t meet his, they left a soft imprint on his cheek, before he rubbed his nose over Bucky’s, sliding closer to his lips, but not close enough for an accidental brush. They were already playing with fire.

Then Steve lined up and pushed in, the burn delicious, and he could tell by the rapturous expression on Steve’s face that he was the right side of tight. Steve waited, then slid in more, pulling out painstakingly slowly before pushing in deeper, driving Bucky out of his mind until finally Steve sank deep into his hole, as far as he could go.

When Steve didn't start to move immediately, Bucky unstuck his eyes, opening them to find Steve, staring down at him, eyes full of warmth and wonder, the reprieve allowing Bucky to get used to being full. If Steve wasn't already perfect, that moment had cemented it in Bucky's mind.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Perfect, hot and, _shit_ \- I hope you realise I’m going to fuck you through the bed tonight.”

Bucky let out a whimper, how in hell was Steve everything he'd ever dreamt of? He’d made the best decision ever moving into the apartment building. But then he lost all thoughts as Steve made good on his promise.

For a man who was small in stature, Bucky sure didn’t feel their difference in size in the bedroom, Steve was huge, massive, his entire persona, his aura was dominating, taking over, possessive of every moan Bucky let slip out. He was demanding, pinching Bucky as he filled him, pounding deeply, asking for more from Bucky, and he gave it, happily, willingly and yet still left with capacity to beg for more.

Words harsh then soft spilled from Bucky's throat as Steve played him, wound him up tight only to let him spiral down without release, before winding him right back up with a rhythmic thrusting that reached deep, pressing against his prostate, making him whimper and moan for release. 

But Steve didn’t give it to him. 

Steve was a tyrant, and Bucky had never felt more _seen_ in bed, his every desire met and exceeded; Steve knowing exactly what he needed before even he knew it.

“Look at you, begging for my dick, wanting it, desperate to come on it. Is that what you want?”

Bucky couldn’t do more than rasp, ‘please’ over and over and suddenly Steve pulled out, and before Bucky could bemoan the loss, Steve flipped him, his strength unparalleled, Bucky almost coming alone at the sheer power move.

Steve slid right back in, pushing deeper, holding Bucky’s cheeks apart with his hands, pressing down and grinding filthily until Bucky was a sobbing mess, begging to be able to come, needing it.

The pounding when it finally started was a relief _and_ a curse, Steve didn’t relent, the steady sharp snap of his hips sending Bucky to despair, so close to what he needed, his dick pressed against the sheets, the friction almost enough, but not quite.

But then suddenly the tingling started to well up, and just kept welling, until it took over and he trembled uncontrollably, knowing his release was imminent.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me… gonna come… jesus, Steve, yes…” Bucky yelled into the room, just as the wave crested and he was taken away on it, eyes slamming shut, body twitching his release over the sheets, messy under his stomach. Bucky realised moments after that Steve had snaked his hand underneath his body, squeezing his dick tightly to ensure he fell over the edge. But then Steve was right there too, gasping, hips jerking deeply as he came hard and loudly, lips wet and peppering kisses across Bucky’s shoulders haphazardly, and god the urge to roll over and capture those lips was too much. So Bucky stayed face down where temptation was out of sight. 

“That was…” Steve heaved, breathless above Bucky, and those wonderful pink, plump lips met his shoulder again and Bucky closed his eyes against it, savouring the feeling of them on his skin, filing it away to think on later.

“That was.” Bucky affirmed and felt Steve chuckle through the weight on his back, and also from inside him. 

He never wanted to move again.

Soon though, Steve pulled out and discarded the condom while Bucky languidly stood, heading to the bathroom to clean up. When he came back with a damp cloth, he found Steve pulling on his jeans, and a wash of panic flew through him. Was Steve going, leaving? He couldn't, he didn't want him to. Surely he felt the pull between them as Bucky did? 

Walking over with his heart in his throat, Bucky halted Steve's movements with a firm hand on his shoulder, making Steve look up, wide-eyed and questioning.

“Did you maybe want to stay? Sleep in and get some breakfast tomorrow?” Bucky hoped his words didn’t sound as plaintative as they did in his head. "If you want to. I mean, I'd like you to."

Even though Bucky thought Steve was going to say thanks but no thanks, he was surprised when Steve let go of his jeans, standing straight until they dropped to the ground with a soft sound, a tentative and almost bashful smile graced his features. And Bucky couldn’t understand, couldn't fathom how this man who’d just taken him apart so expertly, so thoroughly with such a firm and confident hand, looked so uncertain. Like Bucky wasn’t already a hundred percent in love with him. _Jesus_ , it was too soon, he _couldn’t_ be, but what else was it if not love, the all consuming desperation to be with Steve, to have him, to carve out a life with each other, to grow old together.

Maybe it _was_ infatuation, but Bucky didn’t care.

They curled around the other in bed, Bucky up behind Steve, his hand trailing soft touches over Steve's arm, down to his hand and back again, hearing the soft huff of laughter from Steve.

“What?” Bucky asked warmth in his voice, the darkness making everything seem more vivid somehow, even though he could only see outlines moving in the low light. 

“Just glad you moved in, that’s all.” Steve said sleepily and snuggled back into Bucky.

“Same here, pal. Same here,” he left a chaste kiss to the back of Steve’s neck, relaxing until he felt himself falling asleep, content and smiling.

Bucky woke up suddenly, uncertain what time it was, but it was still full dark, and he was no longer wrapped around Steve but laying on his back, and that’s when the overlay hit.

> _he lay in the dark, nothing in the room stirred for the longest moment, and he focused on a spot for so long that blurred shapes began to take hold. Then something caught his attention, and his eyes swung next to him._
> 
> _A shape just visible in the extreme low light, nothing beyond the lump that filled out, but it was large. Another person._
> 
> _The form moved, and unable to make out anything other than the fact someone was there in the bed beside him, he closed his eyes and the darkness stayed._

Bucky came out of the glaze, staring towards his own ceiling for the longest moment, trying to work out how he felt. His soulmate was with someone, sleeping beside them it seemed, and he had no idea if it was a one night stand or something more. But it made him feel calmer, less like he was doing them a disservice, deep inside he was glad that his soulmate had found comfort in another, just as he had. Although as Bucky looked over at Steve, unable to make him out in the dark, hearing only the steady, strong breaths of complete sleep, Bucky knew that this was _not_ a fleeting moment in time.

Rolling over, Bucky slotted his body up against Steve’s, curling an arm around his waist possessively, not able to stop himself. And Bucky knew they hadn’t exactly spoken about anything, about what they were doing, where they were headed; but so far everything felt right, perfect - and quite simply, Bucky would take whatever Steve could give him.

  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the business end of the fic - I have adored seeing all your thoughts and ideas on what might happen to these two dorks - and I honestly hope this chapter resonates with you just as much as the others!
> 
> You've all been so absolutely brilliant ❤ 😘
> 
> One left to go...
> 
> Enjoy!

**Steve**

It had been almost a month of Bucky and he tiptoeing around the word dating, an entire four weeks of laughter, sex and getting to know each other. Well trying to at least.

Steve was probably still too reserved, not completely letting Bucky in, and it wasn't because he was scared or worried about losing his soulmate connection. No, it was because Steve didn't know _how_ to let someone in. He'd been alive for well over thirty years and yet had no clue how to be with the person he loved. 

Not that he’d said any of that to Bucky.

One thing they _had_ spoken about and agreed upon early, was not to talk about their soulmates or their overlays, on what they’d seen and what they knew about them. And although they didn’t voice why, Steve wanted to believe it was so they didn’t cheapen their connection, what feelings were building and to talk about a divine mate, a bond that was so strong it was practically genetically coded, would have felt like a slap in the face.

So they didn’t mention it, nor did they mention the air thick with want and desire that threatened to drown them when together. Because for all that Steve was brave, this petrified him. Finding Bucky, finding _happiness_ , only for it to be ripped away due to something beyond his control. If he laid himself on the line completely and it didn’t work out - where did that leave him? In a place that didn’t bear thinking about. 

Therefore Steve did his own research on the side when he wasn’t painting, or seeing Bucky. He looked at different websites, checked out blogs and stories of other couples who'd chosen to sever their soulmate bonds, and it confused Steve further, as none of the stories he read rang true, they didn't resonate with him. A few articles even reeked of pining for a severed soulmate even though they’d indicated contentment with their choice to break free. But that's not at all how Steve felt about Bucky, he was ecstatically happy, and it felt right that if timing and an opportunity presented itself, he’d give up his soulmate in a heartbeat for Bucky. As far as Steve was concerned, he couldn't imagine anyone making him as giddy and cherished as one Bucky Barnes.

There was only one kink in the armour, one constant _thing_ that put Steve on edge - they'd not as yet brought up or mentioned sharing The Kiss. 

Steve had spent countless phone calls with Peggy lamenting the fact, and of course she told him to bring it up, to ask Bucky what his thoughts were. It usually ended with Steve in a huff, telling Pegs he'd get there - but he really didn't want to rock the boat, not while they were still in the ‘getting to know each other’ phase. He only brought it up with her so he could act churlish, needing to complain for the sake of it. Steve didn’t really want to receive solid, good advice, as he knew _what_ needed to be done, but was struggling with the _when._

And that's how he found himself one Saturday afternoon, fending off Peggy’s advice on the phone again.

"When am I meeting him?" She asked for only the twentieth time in three conversations.

"Soon," he mollified… terribly.

"You've been saying that for weeks now, I don't believe you anymore, Steven Grant Rogers. Set me up at least with his best friend, Natalie was it?"

"Natasha," he corrected without thinking. _Crap._

"Yes that's the one," Peggy's smug voice came through. "I'm sure we have _lots_ to talk about."

"Yes, and that's why neither of you have met the other, nor am I putting Bucky and myself in a situation where you two meet first. I have something called self preservation you know."

Hearing Peggy hum unhappily on the other end of the line made him realise that he was probably being a little unfair. Making her into the bad guy, when she only wanted Steve’s happiness.

"Look, how about next weekend? I'll set something up for the four of us. Coffee shop or wine bar - your choice."

"Perfect, darling. I’ll look at my schedule and get back to you. Later today."

It was at that point he realised he'd been played. Damn Peggy, Steve had wanted to live in his little bubble with Bucky a little longer. Not having to face friends, reality or decisions.

"Well it all depends if I get this painting finished," he amended, "so, I mean, I might still postpone."

"You will not." Peggy said matter of fact, "Have you at least told him what you do for a living yet? Last time we spoke you said you hadn’t, just told him you on-sold prints to a European market or something similar?"

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face, it was true, he'd not yet told Bucky he was an artist. He wasn't ashamed of his career, far from it, but he was working on a piece for Bucky and wanted it to be a complete surprise. 

"Not yet, I think maybe, and don't get too excited, but I might give him the portrait I've painted of him, and bring up the kiss then. I don't know..."

He could hear Peggy's excited clapping through the receiver, and smiled softly. It _was_ a good plan, if he didn't chicken out, that was.

“Keep me in the loop. Oh crud, I’ve got to rush off, chat soon, love you.”

“You too,” Steve replied as the phone fell silent.

He looked over at the painting, then at the palette next to it, he’d tried almost all combinations of blue-grey and couldn’t seem to find the exact shade he wanted. It was starting to frustrate him.

Before he could try and add some extra yellow to the mix, just to see if that helped, he was hit with a glaze, the first in almost three weeks and noted it didn’t bring the same rush as previous overlays.

> _He stood before a large display case, bright lights shining up from underneath the glass, blinding him a little. The contents shiny and sparkly as his eyes flitted over the items on show._
> 
> _He pointed to one in particular and an attendant pulled out a tray, it was full of rings. Picking one up, he turned it over before placing it back. He did this a few times, went through three trays until he picked a ring up, and didn’t put it down again._
> 
> _A purchase was made and a small ring box was handed over in a discreet gift bag. Walking back out into the street, he looked both ways, and with a spring in his step, he started down the sidewalk._

Steve sat motionless for the longest moment, trying to work out how he felt. What the sensation in his gut was. His soulmate had just purchased a promise ring, an utterly stunning and simplistic white gold ring with small carvings along the inside, something Steve would be proud to wear. 

But it wasn’t for him. 

It was for somebody else.

Laughter bubbled up, bringing a rush of elation, of peace.

His soulmate had met somebody, just like Steve had. And suddenly he felt as if the shackles of his destiny were finally falling free. Steve didn’t have to worry about letting down his soulmate, of disappointing somebody, of _being_ a disappointment, because, ultimately it didn’t matter. They had chosen other people, they had decided after all of these years that instead of potentially living alone, loveless, they’d gone out to life and brought that life back home. Had made a choice.

Sure, there would always be a small part of Steve that would wonder who his perfect match would have been, and Steve knew the curiosity would never completely go. But what he and Bucky shared was special, different and he honestly felt like he was bursting out of his skin each and every time they were together. He’d never felt so alive, vitalised, desirable.

Bucky had taken him apart and put him back together again countless times in the last month, and although they played, switching roles and testing each others’ limits, it came down to Bucky requesting Steve to fill him, to dominate him, take care of him. And Steve was never going to understand how he got so lucky, that even though the first part of his life had been tumultuous, he’d ended up exactly where he was supposed to be. He was certain of it.

A small beep shook him from his contemplation and Steve checked his watch, almost falling out of his seat. He was running late. Bucky was on his way back from the shops so they could go for a run together, and if Steve was lucky, he was hoping to end up naked and sweaty on a bed afterwards, the heady musk of their hard work filling his senses. 

But hope no longer had anything to do with it - all he had to do was ask.

And that was still something Steve couldn’t get used to, but by god was he trying.

  
  


Two hours later, Bucky was writhing on the bed, wet with sweat, begging for Steve to fuck him, to pound him so he forgot himself, and Steve was only _just_ holding on. His tongue was deep inside of Bucky, and Bucky’s whimpers and soft growls were making Steve lose his head, but he managed to hold him down, in place, swirling and licking and pushing further until his jaw ached.

It was perfection, he’d never felt such power over another person, it was heady and he wanted as much control as he could over Bucky in the bedroom, and thankfully they’d both found a role and relished in it.

Spreading Bucky’s cheeks wide until he could see his rim stretch, knowing the burn would shoot through Bucky’s body, Steve leant forward, placing little kitten licks over the quivering muscle, until he could hear a sob tear from Bucky’s throat. He was glorious in letting go, showing his pleasure so beautifully for Steve, always.

“Please… oh, god… please,” Bucky whined into the pillow and Steve grinned, making his tongue slip out from it’s snug home, he could eat Bucky out for hours, days in fact. Having him spread out before Steve like a delicious buffet was all he needed in life and it _could_ potentially be that way. If Steve got his courage up. And as Bucky wriggled his ass backwards seeking Steve’s mouth like the wanton mess he was, he pushed aside all thoughts on the future.

He had work to do.

Steve spent too long, but not enough time with his face pressed between Bucky’s thighs, pushing him up to his knees for better access, then after a long while rolling Bucky over and ordering him to hold his legs up, pressed against his chest in a tight stretch, before finally falling onto his back and ordering Bucky to get up and sit on his face. Bucky's legs were so shaky by that stage Steve wasn’t sure if he'd be able to hold the position; but he did, Bucky was so good to him. The entire time that he teased, Steve's tongue rarely left the abused skin of Bucky’s hole, taking what he wanted and holding off on giving Bucky what he craved.

He adored testing Bucky, taking him apart, always changing it up just as Bucky was on the cusp. It made Bucky a whimpering mess, exhausted and needy, and Steve lived for it, disbelieving that he could make such a large competent man beg for his cock, his tongue, his fingers, all of it. 

Bucky was shameless in bed, would do anything, give anything, just to have Steve’s attention.

And as Steve finally slid his dick deeply into him, face hovering over Bucky's, staring into eyes blown wide, drying tear tracks leaking from the side of eyes he knew so well, Steve hesitated, lips brushing Bucky’s chin. Then Steve pulled out, Bucky gasped and his mouth fell open and it was right there, The Kiss only a whisper away and their eyes caught once more. Desire and want and a frantic edge was reflected back at him, and Bucky’s breathing came in harder, as Steve slowly pushed in, then dragged his cock out agonisingly slow, watching as Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ before sliding lazily back in. The pace maddening, not just for Bucky, but for Steve too.

Yet it was the sight of Bucky’s lips, bitten red, saliva and friction painting the skin around his mouth a bright hue from earlier when he’d been on his knees, taking Steve’s dick deep into his throat, that mesmerized Steve. He couldn’t look away from the soft plumpness as he slowly fucked his way into Bucky’s body.

 _Christ_ he wanted to kiss Bucky desperately, it itched under his skin, begging to be let out, to allow his mouth to take Bucky’s hard and possessively, to show the world they belonged to each other. But he couldn’t. So Steve latched onto Bucky’s collar bone instead and bit down, Bucky arching up, the position allowing Steve to penetrate even deeper. And it was like a dam bursting, all his pent up wants, things he couldn’t ask for, unanswered desires, came flooding out through his actions and he started to fuck Bucky hard and fast, showing no mercy.

Bucky had been straddling the edge of release for so long, he came around Steve almost immediately, but Steve, he just kept going, thrusting hard, snapping his hips until all he could see, smell, feel was Bucky underneath him. The small contented gasps and moans from below him, the clenching around his hardness and the way Bucky looked up at him like he was a god was enough to tip him over the edge. 

With one last hard and deep push, he was coming, eyes shut, head thrown back, mouth open, and when Steve felt Bucky’s fingers trace over his lips as the last of his release filled him up, Steve knew he could never love anyone like he loved Bucky.

Now all he had to do was tell him. 

With a small rub of his nose over a sleepy contented Bucky’s, Steve smiled.

Soon. Very soon.

  
  
  


**Bucky**

Bucky refused to look up, eyes on his beer instead, then he nonchalantly glanced at the other patrons in the bar, not one of them holding his attention for longer than a second. He was well and truly in love with Steve, and although he’d never felt so cared about, so absolutely smothered in attention and, _jesus_ , Steve could take him apart like no other - they’d not talked about the future. About sharing The Kiss.

And he knew it was early in their relationship, if that’s what they were calling it, but he felt like he’d known Steve a lifetime, and he didn’t want to wait around. Didn’t want to risk the chance that Steve’s soulmate might finally, after twenty years make an appearance. Bucky knew if his soulmate turned up, he’d be curious as to who fate had chosen for him, but ultimately his own free choice was incomparable, superior in every way. Stevie was it for him. Completely.

“Are you even going to look at me?” Natasha asked, and with a small sigh, he swung his eyes towards her.

“Why haven’t you asked him about the kiss yet?”

“Fuck, Nat. This is why I’m not looking at you.”

“You don’t have to look at me, for me to be annoying and ask you the questions you’re too stupid to ask yourself. Have you even told him you love him yet?”

Bucky looked heavenward, counting to three.

“I assume not, by that display. What about the ring you brought - you doing anything with it?”

“Jesus, calm your farm please. I just… I need to work out the best way to bring it up. You don’t just lay something that thick on somebody you’ve been almost dating for a month.”

“ _Almost_ dating?” Natasha’s eyes narrowed and he knew he’d made another error. She should be a spy or a detective, she was brutally quick. “You haven’t even clarified with the poor man that you’re dating? I mean come on, James. I taught you better than this.”

“And Clint?” It was a low blow but he didn’t want to admit that she was right, that he was too chicken to rock the boat of their newness, didn’t want to scare Steve off with being too heavy and declaring his undying love.

“Touche,” she replied, but he’d seen the flash of hurt in her eyes, damn it.

“I take it back, you have your reasons and I have mine. Sorry. Do you forgive me?”

Two shots of vodka later, he was forgiven and was combating the small buzz at the base of his brain, Natasha only liked the top shelf alcohol and it had a kick.

“I’m going to tell Clint, next week.”

Bucky froze, glass halfway up to his lips. “You sure, Nat?”

“Yeah, well, maybe your struggle with it all, seeing you fall in love with Steve, and the fact you’re wanting to kiss and sever your soulmate bond has… well, it’s made me realise that by holding back from Clint, and not telling him the truth, I run the risk of losing him forever.”

“Oh,” Bucky breathed, then reached across the table to pull her into a hug, which landed her nose directly near his armpit - on purpose.

“That’s gross, let me up.” But she didn’t struggle and Bucky knew she could flip him over the table if she wanted. Natasha needed the comfort. 

Bucky held her for a few extra seconds, because he could, but when he released her, she had a soft smile on her face.

“So, err, next weekend do you want to meet Steve and his best friend, Peggy? Kind of like a friend double-date?”

Natasha beamed, “absolutely, and hopefully by then you’ve at least told him you’re dating each other. Because you are. I’ve never heard of anyone dating as hard as you are right now and _not_ confirming with the other person. Steve’s either incredibly stupid, or feeling the exact same way as you.”

That made Bucky pause, it was a good point and maybe the ring that was hidden in his sock drawer might make an appearance sooner than he’d thought.

“But what if I fuck it up, Nat? I mean it’s a lot of pressure to ask someone to kiss. Twenty years is a long time to wait for your soulmate, only to give it all up for someone he’s known for about two months - is that fair?”

Natasha took a sip of her gin and eyed him over the glass for a moment, “ok, let me ask you this then? For you, it’s been fifteen years of waiting around for a soulmate who didn’t show, so does it feel like you’d be giving up the love of your life for Steve?”

“No,” Bucky replied without thought, “of course not.”

“And why is that?”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, feeling stupid as the realisation filled his veins, trickling through every pore in his body, making him feel elated and queasy all at once. 

“Because Steve _is_ the love of my life.” He spoke quietly, his smile growing with every second that passed as his words rang true. “You don’t have to look so smug about it.”

Natasha didn’t give up her little grin all night, and Bucky for once didn’t care that she’d been right. 

Being proven wrong had never felt so good.

  
  


Making out with Steve on his couch was one of Bucky’s top four things to do, only eclipsed by watching movies with him, laughing with him and also getting railed by him, in no real particular order.

They’d already had one sweaty round that night, leaving Bucky wanting more, needing release, and somehow he’d ended up shirtless and desperate for it as Steve straddled him, lavishing attention on his skin. Steve wearing the t-shirt Bucky had shucked earlier that night like he owned it, and maybe he did - Steve owned Bucky so why not his clothes.

Their breathless gasps as fingers dug into each other for leverage, noses pressed against the other, mouths so close, but not touching, lips and tongues crossing every inch of skin except for the one place Bucky truly wanted, filled his senses. Anticipation rode them, the air electric, Bucky felt it in the spaces all around, they were close to something, a revelation, a confession and he wasn’t certain if he should say something or just see where the night took them.

Then Steve pulled back, mouth red from attacking the stubble at Bucky’s throat, and Bucky had never looked at someone before with such fondness, an all consuming desire to have this for the rest of his days. 

The ring was burning a hole in his pocket. 

“Stevie -”

“Buck -"

They laughed together, and Bucky indicated that Steve should speak first.

“Alright,” Steve looked nervous, eyes flitting over to the spare rooms door, a room Bucky had yet to see in, maybe it was full of sex toys, a swing, all kinds of delicious things, but then those blue eyes were honed back in on Bucky, resolve filled them and it stole his breath.

“Alright,” Bucky echoed.

“I’ve got something for you, I mean - I’ve made something for you.”

“Made for me?” Bucky asked, having no idea what that meant. Steve had _made_ him something.

“Yeah, god, this sounds so juvenile, but, there’s something I want you to have.”

“Okay, and it’s in your spare room?”

“Uh, yeah, how did you know?”

“You’ve been looking over my shoulder at the door constantly, I just figured. Is it a sex swing?”

Steve smacked his shoulder and grinned, features softening and it was only barely a second, but Steve’s eyes dropped to his lips and Bucky licked them without thinking, feeling Steve’s body shudder as it pressed on him.

“How about you go grab us a tea or something from the kitchen alright? I’ll go get it.”

Steve slid off Bucky’s lap, and the coolness of the air snuck up on his bare chest and he watched Steve in his oversized shirt, walk over to the door. Not wanting to ruin the surprise, Bucky headed for the kitchen, grabbing two mugs off the sink, wanting to make tea so as to calm his nervous heartbeat. He had a feeling he’d need it.

His fingers found themselves once again deep in the pocket of his pants, and he toyed with the ring, feeling the smoothness of the outside and the small ridges on the inside where the words, ‘can I keep you?’ looped around in script.

Bucky would wait to see what Steve had to give him, then he’d offer his heart, the ring and a kiss. Bucky was certain this is how it should be - that this was the life he wanted to lead. There were no doubts.

Chuckling, he looked at the ‘artists do it creatively’ mug he’d picked up and started to make their hot drinks. It was as he held Steve’s mug that the overlay started, and he stood back against the counter and waited, wanting to kiss Steve soon so he didn’t have to go through the glazes anymore.

> _The room was darkened, his eyes flicked back to the door that was half ajar and then turned again. A light flicked on and his eyes adjusted then landed on the countless paintings, pictures, colours and scenes in the room. But it was one that had a small purple sheet over it that he headed towards._
> 
> _Fingers long and slim reached out and ripped the covering off. Blue eyes, with a hint of purple stared back out at him, long brunette hair, chiseled cheekbones and a small smirk with perfectly pink lips finished off the painting._
> 
> _He looked towards the window, his reflection clear on the dark glass, enhanced by the light shining down on him, and he swept a hand through his blonde hair, pushing it off his face, hands shaky._
> 
> _Spinning quickly, he suddenly looked back out the door, towards a kitchen, a kitchen where the man from the painting stood, shirtless, shocked and a cup broken at his feet._
> 
> _Bucky._
> 
>   
>    
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is all you crazy beautiful readers.
> 
> I should just let you get to it as I know a few of you were.... impatient ;) for the update, but I wanted to take the opportunity to thank you all for taking a chance on another soulmate fic and for reading along, kudoing, bookmarking and of course commenting with your amazing thoughts, ideas and keyboard smashes. I have loved every second of my interactions with all of you, no matter how large or small.
> 
> Thanks for all the support and you know what - just get into it - you don't need to read me gushing at how wonderful you all are ❤
> 
> Enjoy!

**Steve**

Steve heard the crash followed by the unmistakable sound of splintered glass careening across his kitchen floor, and he quickly turned to the door to see if Bucky was okay, he looked fine, but as Steve went to walk out, a glaze hit, almost knocking him off balance. And with a curse, he hoped it wouldn’t take long, needing to check on Bucky. Steve couldn’t wait for the day that the overlays would cease, hoping against hope that Bucky would say yes to his proposition that night.

> _He looked down, trembling hands the only thing in his line of vision, the shake noticeable as eyes honed in on the blue veins running underneath the skin. Then he looked past his fingers to the floor, to see broken ceramic nestled next to his bare foot. There was no blood._
> 
> _The word ‘creatively’ curled up on one large shard, and ‘art’ could be seen on another piece. His bare chest heaved in his peripheral, breaths sharp, and then he looked up, his eyes falling on a doorway to a figure standing there, worry creasing their features._
> 
> _Steve._

Steve was ripped out of the overlay, his own chest surging, sucking in air as he stared across the space between their bodies. The shock of the moment meant he’d not yet managed to comprehend the colossal change that had befallen them. What it would mean.

Bucky was his soulmate. 

Had always _been_ his soulmate.

“I… don’t under… It’s you…” Steve breathed, and then wondered if Bucky also knew. Though surely he would have said something if he did, wouldn’t he? Maybe Steve was the only one that had realised it; and he floundered. It was _too_ big, the news too monumental, he wouldn’t be able to get it out. How could he possibly verbalise something so… life changing?

“I had an overlay and…” Steve trailed off, not sure why, he should just blurt out that Bucky was his soulmate, but how could that be? It was inconceivable. So instead of trying to talk again, he watched as Bucky stared at him, Bucky’s face going through a complicated array of emotions, before settling on a shy, confused, but disbelieving smile. 

He was gorgeous.

“I had one too, Stevie - less than a minute ago. And for the first time in fifteen years I saw the face of my soulmate.” Bucky inhaled deeply, then took a hesitant step toward Steve, whose heart had stopped, “but I already knew it well, had memorised it months ago, and I knew he was mine forever, had chosen him already.”

“Buck…” Steve’s voice cracked and he coughed, loosening his chest as he did so, why was it so tight? “But it’s been twenty years for me, how _can_ we be soulmates? The timing doesn't work.”

He asked the question, knowing it was rhetorical because there were no doubts, he’d seen himself in the overlay, knew he’d been staring out of Bucky’s eyes all these years and his chest pulsed at the knowledge. They had been as close as two people could be, sharing vision, but also so very far away, and somehow, against all odds, they’d found each other without using the overlays as guidance. 

It was unprecedented, surely.

“I don’t know… I can’t explain it… honestly, I’m just a little floored right now.” Bucky replied with a small shrug.

It suddenly dawned on Steve that he was standing on the other side of the room when his soulmate, a person he’d given up on, only to fall in love with, was right there.

The blinding smile Steve received as he ran at Bucky, made his heart light, made him want to yell from the top of his lungs, and he launched himself at the last second to land in Bucky’s strong arms with a grunt, legs wrapping around his waist, along with a disposition to never move again.

Steve leaned in until his lips hovered over Bucky’s, so close that Steve could feel the heat of their laboured breathing. His gaze flicked down to Bucky's lips then back to his eyes and his painting was all wrong again, the colour shining out at him was dark and wild like a sea in the middle of a storm, full of need and desire, not light and full of laughter and warmth. Steve knew he could paint Bucky’s eyes for a lifetime and never get the colour exactly right. 

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,” Steve whispered, and for one second he thought Bucky was about to drop him, shaking so violently at Steve’s admission.

“God… you too, I am _so_ in love with you…”

They didn’t move for the longest moment, just breathing in each other’s air, basking in the realisation that they loved each other and everything was much bigger than they’d ever imagined it could be. The speed in which they fell for each other made so much more sense now they’d discovered their true bond.

“Steve?” Bucky finally rasped brokenly, breaking the silence, voice thin and barely holding on. Steve gave the smallest nod, knowing exactly what Bucky was asking permission for.

He didn't even have time to blink before Bucky's lips pressed against his, so very soft, sweet and with a hint of reverence. 

It was their first kiss. Ever.

Within seconds, an unexplainable urgency bubbled up, consuming him, and Steve groaned, opening his mouth, kissing deeper, the zing running up his spine eliciting shivers as small moans escaped his throat. Steve was on fire, his insides molten heat, turning to liquid, and he couldn’t get his brain to stop flailing, to slow down and savour the moment. He was too greedy, needing more, but unable to articulate what _more_ was.

Bucky followed Steve’s lead, meeting him equally in passion, a hand coming up to grip the back of Steve’s head, pulling him closer, their bodies merging as Steve writhed, begging for something, and as Bucky’s tongue dipped into Steve's mouth for the first time, he exploded in heat and _want._ That was what he was after, the friction he craved, his undoing.

Between one breath and the next, Steve's entire body vibrated against Bucky's, and a flash went off behind his closed eyelids and suddenly he couldn't tell where one of them stopped and the other began. They’d merged, becoming one for a moment of time, everything clear and vivid, as a veil of contentment, of pure rightness cloaked Steve, warming him to his toes.

He never wanted to stop kissing Bucky, knew he needed it more than the air in his lungs. And as Bucky's soft lips quested, Steve pushed further, deeper, wanting to climb into Bucky, to own him, keep him forever, love him for his lifetime. And now - he could.

Steve had no idea how long they kissed, just knew his body tingled all over, exhilaration threatening to smother him, but stopping seemed counter productive, so he didn't, not for a long while. Steve rode the euphoric rush, enjoying being close with Bucky in a way they'd never experienced before. 

And it was _everything_.

He finally, reluctantly pulled away, but then as the small gap appeared, he pushed back up, kissing Bucky again until they were both dizzy, Bucky growling and hoisting Steve up into a better position. The entire moment, heavenly in a way he’d never be able to articulate.

Eventually they stopped for a proper breath, and laughing happily, Bucky spun Steve once, then set him back on his feet. But Steve immediately pressed himself against Bucky, head resting on his broad chest, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He honestly didn’t know if he’d ever be able to let go.

“I can’t fathom that for over twenty years I’ve been seeing out of _your_ eyes.” Steve whispered, still unable to comprehend this was his new normal. Bucky and he, together forever.

“I know, I just…” Bucky started to chuckle, which soon turned into a full blown laugh and Steve looked up at him fondly, loving the way his eyes crinkled in the corners as he showed his mirth. “It shouldn’t be funny, but it is.”

“What is?” Steve asked when Bucky stopped to look down at him, running his fingers through Steve’s hair, eyes tracing the movement with a soft smile.

“That we were giving each other up, severing our bond, just to be together.”

“Well when you put it like that,” Steve laughed, then narrowed his eyes, “hang on, we’d not discussed kissing or giving up the bond yet.”

Bucky went an adorable shade of pink, eyes averting from Steve for a second before they returned, and Steve felt him rustling in his pocket, and suddenly, Bucky pushed Steve gently away.

“This is not going any way I thought it would, but here,” Bucky held up a ring and Steve caught his breath, it was _the_ ring, the one he’d seen in his overlay. But he remained silent, not wanting to ruin the moment by interjecting, he’d forgotten all about it. “This promise ring is… well it’s yours, always has been, I was going to give it to you tonight, but things got a little derailed. So, Stevie, I only have one question left… can I keep you?”

Steve felt a swirling in his stomach as Bucky held out his hand, Steve placing his fingers into the proffered palm, and with a quick movement, Bucky had slipped the ring on, it fit perfectly, exquisitely. Just like he knew it would. It wasn’t a proposal, that would hopefully come later, but this was bigger in Steve’s book, a pledge, the beginning of their forever.

Bucky’s small unsure cough broke him from staring at the ring on his finger, liking how it made him feel possessed, wanted, adored, and Steve knew he’d be buying Bucky a matching one soon. A second cough startled him enough to look up wide-eyed, and he realised he’d not responded.

“Shit, I mean, fuck… okay, Steve stop swearing, James… Bucky, a million times over, I’m yours. But only on the condition that I can keep you too.”

“I wouldn’t have it or _you_ any other way.”

Beaming, Bucky leant down, capturing Steve’s lips in another kiss, the intent was chaste, it turned anything but. The dam had burst and now that they could kiss on the lips, it was all either of them wanted to do, it was addictive and left Steve breathless. 

He’d found his home.

Later as they lay in bed naked, Bucky’s head nestled on Steve’s chest while he carded his fingers through the dark locks, Steve’s thoughts landed on some of the overlays he’d been a part of. There were so many, it was hard to marry them up to the knowledge it was Bucky, that he was watching Bucky live his life all of that time. He would miss the overlays, as they’d stop now they’d found each other and kissed, but he would cherish the memories forever.

He’d seen holidays, workplaces, restaurants, touch football games and on one scary occasion the inside of a hospital, but it was Bucky, always Bucky with him through his life and although Steve had hated waiting, he felt peace knowing that they’d been tethered together, watching each other grow and live.

Bucky’s fingers suddenly interlaced with his, and a soft kiss was pressed to his knuckles, “These hands haunted me, you know?”

“Yeah?” Steve replied, a warm wonderful feeling spreading throughout his body.

“For fifteen years I was obsessed with looking at hands, trying to find this exact pair, and when I did find them, they belonged to a man who I thought couldn’t be mine. Too many things didn’t add up to us being each other’s. But it didn’t matter, they were my hands, the hands I fell in love with in person, not through a glaze.”

Steve couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. The words of love flowing so freely now, and Steve didn’t think he’d ever come down from his high.

“These hands are yours,” Steve said simply and loved how Bucky gripped him tighter.

“I want to see all your artwork, I’ve been watching you paint for a lifetime. God, how did you keep it from me? We’ve been dating weeks, I mean I know we didn’t really speak about work but this - your art is so unique I would have known immediately.”

Steve groaned, the possibilities of figuring it out sooner just out of their grasp, “I don’t know, I was going to, and then I wanted to paint you a portrait, ask for the kiss, and then I decided I’d do it all at once. Stupid now that I think back on it.”

Bucky kissed his fingers, one by one, “not stupid. Everything turned out the way it was supposed to. I’m certain of that.”

Steve hummed, thinking about how Bucky had recognised his hands, and then his mind landed on one overlay recently, making him flush red. “Holy shit, I saw you jerking off in a glaze, not even six weeks ago. I.. hell… I _thought_ your dick looked familiar, but shrugged it off as wishful thinking.”

The shock of laughter from Bucky, made Steve’s chest tingle as stubble brushed against the skin, and Bucky snuggled in further, nestling comfortably.

“Well, to quote the love of my life, ‘this dick is yours’, but you _do_ know you were the cause of that little indiscretion, pal.” 

“Me?” Steve asked and looked down, Bucky moving to stare back at him, eyes sparkling and a slow sexy smirk graced lips Steve had an unhealthy obsession with.

“Yeah, you’d just come in from a run and next minute you’re half naked and sweaty in the foyer, I almost didn’t make it back to my apartment before jerking myself.”

“Oh, so you’re a deviant then? Getting off on seeing a bit of sweaty skin on a man you didn’t know well. Who’d have thought my soulmate had such a dirty streak like that?”

The small suck of air that Bucky took, stopped Steve from teasing and they caught each other's gaze, the fact that they _were_ soulmates, that they’d inexplicably found each other through more years than either of them wanted to count, all for it to end up here, in this moment. It made Steve absolutely giddy.

“We’re soulmates.” Bucky stated.

“We are so very definitely soulmates,” Steve replied matter of fact, and the grins they gave each other were brighter than the sun.

  
  


**Bucky**

He didn’t know why he was so nervous, he’d jumped out of a plane once, swam with sharks in Australia and had broken his arm snowboarding, but nothing scared him more than what was unfolding right before his eyes.

Leaning over to an equally shell shocked Steve, he bumped his arm, gaining his attention.

“They haven’t taken a breath yet, have they?”

“I don’t think so,” Steve replied out the corner of his mouth.

Bucky looked across the small table at Natasha and Peggy, who’d taken one look at each other, and had fallen in platonic love within the space of half an hour, bonding over having _idiot_ best friends.

“We can hear you, you know?” Peggy drawled, and Bucky wasn’t sure if it was her accent that made her seem more fierce or if it was just who she was. Her face was so familiar, having seen it on and off for years through the overlays, and meeting her in the flesh was novel, and within a minute of conversation, Bucky could tell why Steve loved her so much, she was pretty brilliant. “You were right Steve, I can see why you struggled to mix the correct eye shade for James. It’s so very unique.”

He felt himself flush, the painting Steve had gifted him the morning after their revelation, was stunning. Bucky had been lost for words, still was if he were being completely honest. What Steve had captured on canvas struck Bucky in a way he’d not expected, and he’d sat there staring at each line, each stroke for an hour, not speaking, a wondrous ball of disbelief sitting in his gut. Steve had managed to paint his very essence, to have it shining so blatantly out at him, it was lifelike and soulful and left no doubt in his mind as to how Steve felt about him. The sheer thought he’d done it prior to knowing they were soulmates, made it even more significant.

“Did you get his red cheeks the right colour though?” Nat teased and Bucky scowled at her, eliciting a chuckle. She wasn’t worried at all. He needed to work on his glower.

“About the same shade as yours when Clint fainted at your feet when you told him you were his soulmate and called me for help, because you were worried he’d -”

“- enough out of you, else I’ll tell Steve all about our eventful trip to Moscow.”

“Oh, what’s this?” Steve piped up and Bucky amended his scowl to look more frightening. 

It did not work.

“Well it involved a donkey and a bottle of vodka and a -”

“- well played Romanoff, but you’re wrong, it was samogon and if I recall correctly a leather whip and -”

“- we done here?” Nat cocked her head, eyes sparkling and Bucky nodded his head with a blazing grin.

“Hang on, I think I might have got a glaze of that...” Steve exclaimed and Bucky baulked, then at the laughter the others exploded with, realised Steve was only teasing.

“I think introducing everyone to each other was a terrible idea,” he settled on and ignored the chorus of groans, sipping on his beer.

“So, James,” Peggy started, and he couldn’t believe he now had two women in his life who refused to call him Bucky, “Steve mentioned that you figured out your entire lives were lived out only a few blocks away from each other? That you were always in the same Burrough, or vicinity?”

Bucky looked over at Steve and felt a palm come to rest on his thigh, and immediately dropped his hand to capture Steve’s fingers between his own. He’d never get tired of the feeling of having Steve close. His. 

“Yeah, it appears that when Steve got sick, and almost… well, when he was sick, it completely messed with his internal clock and the soulmate bond paused for me and sped up for him, hitting me a good five years after, the three Dr’s we’ve gone to can’t explain why. But it seemed that it was trying to come out in different ways, we always had a longing for Brooklyn and never ventured too far, we even went to the same library and coffee shops for years and never ran into each other.”

“Until you moved into my apartment block,” Steve supplied with a squeeze to his hand and a happy grin, Bucky mimicked it.

“Yep, I’d felt something pulling me to that particular block for the last few years, and when I saw an apartment available, it seemed like fate. Turned out to be, in fact.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get sappier,” Natasha teased, then raised her hand to get them another round of tequila and Bucky in that moment both hated and loved his best friend. She was fantastically savage.

The rest of the night was spent in laughter and gentle teasing, Bucky thrilled that the two people closest to him and Steve had connected, even to the point of exchanging numbers to do coffee the following week. Bucky had glanced at Steve when he’d witnessed it and when he saw Steve’s pleased smile, knew only good things would come from it. Or insufferable - the jury was still out.

After saying their goodbyes out the front of the bar late enough to be considered early, Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and they started the walk back to their apartment block.

It was as they walked, Bucky’s brain kept turning over an idea, something that had been in the peripheral of his thoughts, but until recently had assumed it too much to bring up. He looked over at Steve, blonde hair glowing in each street light for a moment in time as they passed under them, his features sharp and beautiful and Bucky’s heart filled to the brim in love. Tugging on Steve’s arm until he came to a stop, he gave Bucky a questioning look.

Bucky pulled Steve around until they were facing each other, raising his hand so he cupped Steve’s cheek, thumb trailing softly over the pale skin, relishing in the moment, that he was completely Bucky’s, no one else’s, that he’d never lose Steve to anyone else.

The adoration reflected in Steve’s eyes made his heart quicken, and he trailed his thumb over Steve’s lips, pressing down until he felt a small gasp, and Steve’s tongue popped out to lick at the pad, eyes shutting for a moment as he tasted Bucky’s skin.

He couldn’t take it, Steve was too much, too gorgeous and he leant down, claiming his lips. As always the electric current ran through his stomach, making it jump and squirm in need, want and a desire so strong it could raize worlds.

The kiss though, was chaste for them and Bucky had to hold himself back from deepening it, knowing once they got home, Steve would take care of him, give him what he needed.

“Steve?” He asked, and loved the way Steve’s eyes fluttered open as he took a step back, gaze never leaving Bucky’s face, honed in on his lips. Steve was hungry for more and Bucky thrilled at the knowledge of what was going to happen later that night - morning.

“Yeah,” Steve breathed in response, grabbing Bucky’s hand and yanking so they were walking quicker back towards home and Bucky grinned, anticipation in each step.

“I was thinking, and even though I know it’s early days, I just thought I’d float the idea past you, but would you like to maybe… look at… _movingintogether_?”

Steve laughed and Bucky felt himself internally groan, he was an adult damn it, he could get the words out, enunciate properly, surely?

“Are you asking if I want to move in with you?”

“Yeah?” Bucky said slowly, hopefully and took the cowards way out by just agreeing with Steve's interpretation and not asking again.

“Nope.” Steve replied succinctly.

“Nope?” Bucky echoed, and wasn’t sure if he’d heard right.

“You can move in with me. My place is bigger, has a second bedroom - yours is only one bed and I need a studio. At least until I can afford to rent one somewhere else.”

“Oh, right, good,” Bucky sighed out the breath he’d been holding onto too tightly, and grinned down at Steve, “Steve - are you asking me to move in with you then?”

“Jerk,” Steve said and smacked his free hand against Bucky’s chest, which he caught and lifted to press a kiss to the palm, loving the way Steve’s eyes tracked the motion.

“That’s a yes by the way.”

“I know,” Steve said quietly, a smile on his face, bright and wide.

Later that night as they spoke about logistics and what they needed to keep and what they could get rid of (Bucky’s throw rug did not make the grade, but he was going to give it to Nat for her birthday) he was stunned when Steve pulled out a little box, a very familiar little box, from a very familiar jewellery store, and his heart started to thud harder in his chest.

“So, you bought me the most beautiful promise ring, and I wanted to get you one in return. Just so you know you’re taken care of, that I’ve got you, that you're mine.”

The words hit Bucky low in the gut, before travelling to his heart to explode throughout his body. And the thought of wearing something Steve had given him, to show he belonged to him, set a slow burn in his soul. Christ he loved this man.

Bucky took the proffered box and opened it slowly. Inside, nestled in the little satin folds was a white gold ring, almost identical to the one he’d bought Steve, but the inscription was different. It didn’t state ‘can I keep you?’. He held it up to the light and began to laugh when he read it, the smile on his face threatening to break his cheeks it was so wide.

“‘I’m yours to keep’” Bucky read and met Steve’s eyes.

And Bucky knew, without a doubt that although they’d waited a lifetime, the rest of their lives would be spent together, loving each other, and soulmate or not, Steve was made for him, just as he was made for Steve.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly hope you enjoyed these boys and their happy ending.... or beginning if you look at it the way I do :)
> 
> Thank you again from the bottom of my stucky loving heart! And the next AU fic as part of my challenge will be Angels & Demons (it's a fun one!)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on the below if you ever want to chat about anything - I'm nice - promise!!
> 
> Tumblr -[ kalee60](https://kalee60.tumblr.com)  
> Twitter - @kalee60_


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